


Bad Timing

by herstorybooks



Series: The Wayward Witch [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Magic, Reader-Insert, Rewrite, Season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 108,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herstorybooks/pseuds/herstorybooks
Summary: A year had passed since the trio had been pulled apart. Against all the odds, Dean managed to fight his way out of Purgatory and back up top. But things are not the way he left them. Sam has quit hunting, leaving the supernatural life and his responsibilities to fend for themselves. When the brothers finally share an emotional reunion, it only lasts a few minutes as Dean quickly learns how Sam moved on from the hunting life, his brother, and most surprisingly Y/N.Season 8 rewrite with the reader as a main character! I’d recommend reading my Season 7 rewrite  ‘The Powers of Three’ first. Enjoy
Relationships: Sam Winchester & Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader
Series: The Wayward Witch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964182
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. We Need to Talk About Kevin.

**Author's Note:**

> We’re back baby! I do hope you’re ready for some angst, arguments and the difficult rebuilding of bridges that had been demolished by the results of the last story. So, get yourself a drink and a snack, get comfy and enjoy the show

Dean waited out of sight inside of the cabin. After a year in Purgatory, fighting to stay alive every horrendous second of every godforsaken day, he had gotten even better at remaining unseen when there weren’t many places to hide. The first number he wanted to ring was his brother, but he waited. His first mission was the make it to Benny’s grave and do good on his deal. The unlikely alliance between him and the Vampire from purgatory had been how he survived, how he made it back up top. Once he released him back to his body, the two parted ways and Dean reached for his phone. He rang every phone number Sam had, but none picked up. They barely rang out. They went straight to voicemail like his phones were all turned off. After days of hitching and drifting through towns and cities, he finally got a response from his baby brother. There wasn’t much time for pleasantries or sentimental words over the phone. After the year he’d had, Dean was more cynical and untrusting than he’d ever been. He wasn’t going to truly trust it was his brother he was talking too until he was standing before him and he could make sure for himself.

Finally, he heard the purr of his baby, the black impala. His companion that got him from point A to B. He listened as the door opened and shut, the footsteps of Sam’s boots and the creak off the wooden floor. Sam couldn’t see his brother as he entered the room. But was quickly brought aware of his presence. Dean tackled him to the ground and poured holy water all over his face.  
“Dean? I’m not a Demon!” He insisted, fighting the heavy body onto of him. Dean responded by pouring Borax all over him. “Or a Leviathan! What…” Dean grabbed Sam’s arm, slitting the skin with a sharp silver blade. Sam winced in pain, grabbing his arm now dripping with blood.  
“Or a shifter,” Dean observed. “Good!” He nodded before climbing off of his brother. “My turn, come on let’s go.” Dean motioned for Sam to get up, trying to hand him the bottles of liquid.  
“I don’t need to! I know it’s you!” Sam insisted through heavy breaths.  
“Damn it, Sammy!” Dean yelled! His brother was too trusting and naive. He took the bottles and coated his skin in the water and cleaning supply. Sam watched the bizarre acts in front of him as he stood up. “Come on!” Dean said, handing him the silver blade.  
“Dean no! Can I just say hello?” He said with an exasperated laugh. Dean scrunched his face defiantly, rolling up his sleeve and slitting his arm. The blood appeared but Dean ignored it, putting the knife back in his pocket. Finally satisfied they’d gone through all the precautions necessary. “Right, well. Let’s do this.” He smiled like a child.  
“I don’t know whether to give you a hug or take a shower.” Sam joked. Dean laughed with relief.  
“Come here.” The two brothers embraced one another, slapping each other’s backs and hugging for the first time in a year. Dean hugged tighter.  
“Dude! You’re friggin’ alive!” Sam exclaimed in happy shock. “I mean, what the hell happened?” He asked as they parted.  
“I guess standing too close to an exploding Dick sends your ass straight to Purgatory,” Dean said too happily. He was doing that thing, using sarcasm and humor to hide the horrors that were running wild in his head. Horrors in the form of memories, not imaginative nightmares.

“You were in Purgatory,” Sam asked, disturbed, “For the whole year?”  
“Yeah, time flies when you’re running for your life.”

“How’d you get out?” Dean didn’t answer right away, his brain going over the truth, his truth, and what he wanted to tell Sam.

“I guess whoever built that box didn’t want me in there any more than I did.” He said with his forced nonchalant smile.  
“What does that mean?” Sam asked, not satisfied with the answer.  
“I’m here. Okay?”  
“What about Cas? Was he there?” Dean's face twitched. The name of the angel made it difficult to look Sam in the eye. He turned and paced in the opposite direction.  
“Yeah, Cas didn’t make it.”  
“What exactly does that mean?” Sam asked his brother, who kept his back turned to him.  
“Something happened to him down there.” He soberly explained. “Things got pretty hairy towards the end and he just let go.”  
“So Cas is dead? You saw him die?”

“I saw enough.”  
“So what, you’re not sure?” Sam continued to poke.  
“I said I saw enough Sam,” Dean said sternly, turning to face his brother to add emphasis to his words.  
“Right… Dean, I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah, me too.” There are two short beats of awkward silence between the two before Dean snapped back into his facade. “So you! I can’t believe you’re actually here. You know that half of your numbers are out of service?” Dean continued to talk as he headed towards the fridge and pulled out a beer. “I felt like I was leaving messages in the wind.” He sat down in a chair, pulling the top off of his beer. Sam’s face suddenly changed. He’d gone from the person wanting to know all the answers, to the person not wanting to share any at all.  
“Yeah… yeah… I, I didn’t get your messages.”  
“How come?”  
“Probably because I ditched the phones.” Dean looked shocked.  
“Because?”

Sam breathed in heavily, bracing himself for what was about to happen.  
“I guess, something happened to me this year too.” He walked closer to the opposite chair and shrugged. “I don’t hunt anymore.” Dean laughed. He knew by his brother's face that he was telling the truth, but God! After the year he had, his brother couldn’t have turned his back on their life. If there was a merciful god up there, this would be a joke.  
“Yeah, and Sasha Grey’s gone legit!” Sam scoffed to himself. “What?”

“She did a Soderbergh movie.”  
“What?”

“She did a Soderbergh movie,” Sam repeated, thinking his brother's shock came from the news of the ex adult film star now making Hollywood movies.  
“No! You Sam!” Dean explained in a slightly louder volume. “You quit?”

“Yeah… yeah. You were gone. Dean, Cas was gone. Bobby was dead. Even Crowley shipped Meg and Kevin to parts unknown.”  
“So you just turned tail on the Family business?”

“Nothing quite says family business like the entire family being dead.” Sam scoffed, hoping some humor would stay in the conversation.

“I wasn’t dead,” Dean replied coldly. “In fact, I was knee-deep, in God’s armpit!” He shouted, standing up and walking around his brother. “Killing Monsters! Which I thought, was what we actually do.”

“Yes, Dean! But as far as I knew, what we do is what got every member of my family killed!” Sam turned, begging his brother to understand. “I had no one. No one! And for the first time…”

“Wait.” Dean held up a hand, silencing his brother. From the look in Sam’s eyes, he knew the question his brother was about to ask him, and that made Dean dread the answer. “You had no one? Where was Y/N?” Sam didn’t answer, he stepped back, putting his hands in his pockets, not looking his brother in the eye. “Is she dead?” He asked heatedly.  
“I don’t know,” Sam mumbled, only just about audible.  
“What?” Dean yelled.  
“I don’t know!” Sam finally looked up to see his brother’s reaction and hated what he saw. “Crowley appeared, snapped his fingers and she was gone. I was truly alone, I didn’t have a roadmap! So I fixed up the Impala and drove.” Dean calmed his face, which was scarier then if he looked angry.  
“After looking for us. Both Y/N and me?” He knew the answer, but he wanted his brother to say it. To admit he’d abandoned them. “Did you look for us, Sammy?” Sam didn’t answer. “Well, that’s good. I know we always said we wouldn’t look for each other. It’s smart, good for you. Of course, we always ignored that! Because of our deep abiding love for each other. But not this time? Oh and let’s not forget that we never had that agreement with Y/N? That she could be out there somewhere lost and alone and scared. Or she could be dead! But good for you! You got out!” Dean’s words got louder and louder, turning from sarcasm to resentment before he turned around and exited the cabin, slamming the door behind him. Sam watched his brother go and sighed to himself.  
“Welcome back.”

.

.

The sun had gone down and Dean had come back to the cabin. They didn’t speak to argue, they just existed in the same space. Sam felt hungry, looking at the food he’d brought with him on his trip.  
“You want some dinner?” He asked Dean. Dean had collected all of Sam’s phones, taking a pair of earphones and settling down on the sofa.  
“I’ll pass.” He dismissed before reaching for a phone and plugging in the headset. Sam sighed and made himself dinner.

He sat down, taking the first few spoonfuls of soup, and glanced over at his bother. He stared forward at the wall, listening to something through the earphones. But then his face went cold and he looked back at him.  
“What?” Dean took out the earphone and pressed play.

_Sam Winchester? It’s Kevin Tran. Crowley had me in this warehouse and I just escaped. I don’t know where I am, or if you or any demons are still after me. I need your help. Call me back! It’s Kevin Tran._

“When was that?” Sam asked, trying to act as if It wasn’t shocking news. Dean replied by hitting the play button again.

_Sam Winchester? It’s Kevin Tran. I called you a week ago. Call me, please. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing out here man._

“Okay, I get it,” Sam grunted slightly, standing fro his seat, wanting to get away from this guilt trip before it fully spiraled. “So you wanna strategize or something?” Dean wouldn't let him and pressed play again.

_Saaaam! It’s Kevin. I’m goooood. I’m so good! Three months since you ditched my ass. I haven’t slept for more than four hours a night but its all good in the hood! If you’re still alive… Eat me!_

Kevin’s drunk and bitter voice went through Sam’s veins like ice-cold blood. The guilt of his actions hitting in. Then Dean pressed play another time.

_Sam, it’s been six months. I can only assume you’re dead. If not, don’t try and reach me. You won’t be able to. I won’t be calling this number anymore._

Dean turned off the phone, standing up. Even if height didn’t allow it, he seemed to tower over his younger brother.  
“He was our responsibility. And you couldn’t answer the damn phone!” He chucked the phone at his brother who only just caught it. “There are a few more messages on there you might want to listen to.” He said bitterly before sulking away. Sam sighed, looking down at the phone. He knew by the tone in Dean’s voice who the other messages were from and they weren’t Kevin. He put the phone in his back pocket, he couldn’t stand to hear that voice just yet. If ever again.

.

.

Another hour had past and Dean sulked into the room yet again. He sat on the sofa, nursing another bottle whilst Sam sat at the table with his laptop, allowing his grief to motivate his actions,  
“Listen to this, Kevin’s last message.” He called over. “Listen to the background.” He pressed play and watched as Dean turned in his seat to listen. Both ignored the somber words from Kevin, but focused on the isolated noise in the distance. They could hear a woman over a speaker call the last stop on a bus.

Last Stop: Centre Ville. At least now they had some idea where in the world Kevin was.  
“Centre Ville? Centre Ville where?” Dean asked, standing and coming over towards the laptop.  
“Centre Ville Michigan,” Sam answered.  
“And why would Kevin be in Centre Ville Michigan.” Sam smiled and laughed to himself, typing on the laptop and turning the screen to show Dean.  
“Because his high school girlfriend goes to school there.”

“It’s thin,” Dean told his brother, not convinced.  
“It’s the only lead we’ve got.”  
“we?” Dean asked with angry intrigue. His brother met his eye and felt guilt wash over him again.  
“You were right. He was our responsibility. Let’s find him, okay?” Dean thought for a moment before nodding.  
“Fine, but we’re picking something up on the way. It’s on our route.”

“Pick up what?” Sam asked confused. Dean stared down sternly at his brother, wanting to hit him.  
“Listen to the rest of you damn messages.” He muttered before walking away for the third time since the brothers had reunited.

.

.

Dean was packing the trunk of the car as the sun had finally awoken. Sam looked down at his phone and knew he had waited long enough. Pressing the right buttons and lifting the phone to his ear, he heard the one voice that made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Sam? What happened?” It was Y/N’s voice. “Crowley snapped me outside the building but you’d driven off before I could reach you. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come find you.” The machine beeped and a new message arrived.

“Hey, Sam. It’s me. I managed to hitch a ride to the garage I stored Betty. I’m driving to my old flat. Bobby’s the only one who knew where I lived and I used a fake name so I reckon it’s a good place to hideout. Call me okay? Or just, come see me. I miss you. I’m worried.” She continued to read out her address before hanging up. Another beep.

“Sam it’s been weeks. Where are you?” After several messages repeating the same words over and over again, he reached the final message. He heard her breath on the end of the phone, bracing herself for the words she wanted to say and the words she was going to say.

“Goodbye, Sam.” And that was the last message.

Dean called from outside, snapping him out of any trance or moment of emotional regret he could have been feeling. He closed himself off to any of those emotions, knowing it was only going to get worse. Especially when they finally arrived on her doorstep. He walked outside, throwing Dean the keys and ducking into the passenger seat. It had been a long while since he’d been on this side of the car, it strangely felt more comfortable than the driver's seat.

“Well, no visible signs of douchery, I’ll give you that.” Dean joked before sniffing the air. “It smell like dog in here to you?”

* * *

Y/N finally sat down at the desk, sighing loudly and stretching her neck from left to right. After taking down a whole nest of Vampires by herself, she’d earned a few extra beauty marks in the form of sore muscles and scratch marks on her arms. She shrugged off her coat, letting the healing marks breath in her vest and jeans. She chucked off her boots and took her hair down. Straight away she felt the release of her roots. After having her hair up for so long, it felt like it was squeezing her brain. She opened her laptop, realizing it was the only light source in the room that was on. She turned to the lamp beside her, waving her hand and whispering ‘in lucem.’ The light turned on and she squinted at the sudden brightness. Allowing her eyes to adjust she turned to the stale cup of coffee left abandoned on her desk that morning. She winced, downing the cold and flavorless drink before wiped her mouth.  
“Right, workout complete. Time for some real work.” She said to herself. Over the last year, hunts were no longer motivated by her moral compass. No, they were a necessity to keep her mind and body sharp. Every day she would find a case and follow the hunt to its conclusion. She’d take down werewolves, the odd nest, and maybe even a ghost if she was feeling brave. Then it was back to her real work, he research. Trying to find Dean.

As she began reading another location spell on the internet, pretty sure this one was another fake, she heard the door knock. She looked up with furrowed brows. She’d only just gotten home and she wasn’t exactly used to house calls. Had there been a rogue vampire she’d missed that followed her home? She opened her desk drawn, reaching for her silver knife and hiding it in her back pocket. She had her machete propped up by her door and bottles of holy water and borax ready to go.

She stalked slowly up to the scruffy and worn door, holding her breath and moving with caution to not make any noise. Once close enough to the door, she looked through the peephole and immediately swung open the door. It opened and slammed against the wall loudly.  
“Y/N!” Dean, or what looked like Dean smiled down at her. She didn’t respond, just stared at him in shock. Dean bent down to hug her but before he could wrap his arms around her waist, she reached and chucked a bottle of Holy Water in his face. There was no reaction, just a pissed of expression. “Y/n… What the…” another bottle, this time of Borax. No reaction. Demon and Leviathan were off the list. “Happy?” Dean asked, wiping his dripping face with his sleeve.

“No.” She replied, grabbing his arm and slicing the skin with her blade in one swift motion. He hissed and was quick to pull his arm away, but there was no burning of the skin. It was a normal human reaction. This wasn’t a monster. This wasn’t some cruel trick. “Dean?” She asked, not quite sure if she was so lucky she could believe it was really him.  
“I’m back sweetheart.” He smirked. Y/N dropped her knife and leaped up to pull him into a hug.

“What the Fuck!” She yelled happily. “I can’t believe it’s you!” She squeezed him tightly, having missed the firm grip of his arms around her. He smelled like beer and dirt. She never thought those two smells would be comforting, but right now she might as well have been breathing in the scent of a new candle “What happened? Where have you been? You just disappeared! Dick just exploded and …”

As she clung to Dean and rambled on excitedly, her eyes naturally drifted to behind him. Standing a few doors down out of the way was a very sheepish looking Winchester. She slowly backed out of Dean’s hug as Sam met her eyes and started to approach her.

“It’s really you?” She asked once he was standing before her.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“good.” Y/N swung back her clenched fist and threw it towards Sam’s cheek. There was the audible sound of a large thud as the flesh and muscles collided and Sam stumbled back.  
“Woah!” Dean yelled as Sam reached to hold his now very sore and tingling chin. Dean looked at Y/N for an explanation but all she did was smile at him casually and shake her fist to loosen the now clenched muscles.

“Oh, that feels better.” She sighed, ignoring the pained and confused expression of Sam “Anyone want a drink?”

.

.

They sat around her coffee table, each one sitting in their own chair. The Y/N no longer had much use for fancy furnishings, nor was she planning on wasting money on such luxuries. She’d found three large single chairs that were comfortable enough to sit in. After cleaning them and checking for bugs, she placed them around her coffee table, on the unlikely chance she had guests. Each hunter sat hunched forward with a beer in hand. Sam occasionally Brough the cold bottle to his chin to soother the pained skin.  
“Purgatory?” Y/N asked Dean after he finished telling his story. He nodded regretfully and took a large gulp from his beer. “Well, I guess that explains it.”

“Explains what?” He asked, taking the bottle away from his lips.

“When you disappeared I knew there was no way I’d find you by looking at security cameras or integrating demons. So I decided to do what I do best.”

“Magic?” Dean asked. Y/N smiled proudly, putting her bottle down and walking over towards one of her cabinets. She pulled out a collection of books and lay them out on the table.

“I’ve been learning and going through every single tracking spell I could get my hands on.” Opening the books and flipping through the pages, the boys could see Y/N handwriting and pulled out pieces of paper collected in these leather-bound pages. She’d left no stone unturned, went through all sorts of magic, and researched all types of mythology. “When one failed, I moved on to find another one. But nothing worked. I guess my phone signal doesn’t go down as far as purgatory.”

Dean felt a warm buzz in his chest. At least someone hadn’t given up on him. Y/N had looked for him. She knew he was out there somewhere. “I even looked for Kevin.” She told them as she started gathering the books.

“Really?” Sam asked curiously.

“Well, I tried.” She said flatly. “But most of the spells I found needed an item or something to lock down the person. I didn’t have anything from Kevin so I had to do it the old-fashioned way.” She pushed the rest of the books back in their place and fell back down into her chair. “But I had no lead to start with. For all I knew Crowley had taken him to Australia.”

“You had no luck at all?”

“Any trail I found quickly went cold. Maybe if I’d had some help I would have gotten lucky.” Y/N replied bitterly towards Sam. Sam quickly shied away from his questions, knowing he had little of the moral high ground to stand on. Dean looked between the two hunters and felt his allegiance automatically falling with Y/N. He felt angry on her behalf as he saw the tears pooling in her eyes. It was subtle and barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t know her, but he did. She was practically vibrating with so much anger her body couldn’t contain. She stood up, collecting the empty beer bottle, and walking towards her bin.

Sam pulled his shamed eyes from the floor and up towards his brother.

“He survived a year without us. I’m sure he’ll be fine another 12 hours.” Sam muttered, thinking Dean's irate stare was over the neglect of the prophet. He scoffed to himself at his brother's words.

“That how you rationalized taking a year off? People will be okay.”

“People were okay.” Sam insisted. “It wasn’t like I was oblivious. I read the paper every day, saw the stories, and the kind of stuff we used to chase.”

“And you said what? Not my problem.”

“Yes. For all I know another hunter took care of it.”

“Yeah, probably Y/N!” Dean hissed, trying to keep his volume low enough that the conversation went only between the two brothers. Sam felt his guilt eat away at his voice box again. He glanced into the kitchen and watched as Y/N pulled out another three beer bottles and bean taking off the tops. “So what was it? What could possibly make you stop just like that?” Dean asked. Before Sam could anger, bottles were placed down on the table as Y/N had returned back to the conversation.

“It was a girl.” She said casually as she sat back down. Dean and Sam both looked at her dumbfounded. Y/N fought back a bitter laugh. “I was going through every single tracking spell I could get my hands on to find Dean. You don’t think I eventually got bored of waiting and decided to come to find you myself?”

“Wait, you knew where I was this whole year? Why didn’t you…”

“Come to find you?” She finished. “I did. But when I got there… well you clearly didn’t want to be disturbed. So I rang your phone one last time, knowing you wouldn’t pick up, and said goodbye.”

Sam couldn’t find the words to reply with.

Over the last year, as he drove away from his responsibilities, he accidentally hit a dog. He rushed it to the vet to seek help and that was where he met Amelia. Jumping a year forward, they were living together and that exact dog was their shared pet. The life they shared was away from monsters and hunting. It was domestic and calm and everything he’d never had. When his old life was miles away, he was able to rationalize it to himself. That he’d done the right thing. But right now, sitting in front of Y/N and his brother, it was getting harder and harder to excuse himself.

Y/N looked at Sam’s mouth bob open and close, before finally shutting tight. He had no explanation for her, no words. No story that would make her instantly forgive him and make everything normal again. She shook her head and stood from her seat.

“I’m gonna go pick up some dinner.” She said quietly. “Don’t let anyone in whilst I’m gone.” She instructed, wrapping her coat around her shoulders and opening the door. She stopped before she left and turned to look back at the two brothers. “You might want to fill your big brother in on where you’ve been this past year.” She said emotionless and left.

* * *

After an awkward and painful night of heavy silences and avoiding eye-contact, for the first time in a year, the trio all put on their FBI clothes and headed to the university where Kevin’s high school girlfriend studied. It should have been a somewhat happy moment. The trio back together, following a lead like the old days. But it the waters was tainted with large heaps of mud and dust. The waters were less clear this time around.

“The last time I saw Kevin was like a year ago.” Channing leaned against the door frame, arms crossed and clearly not fussed by Kevin’s disappearance.

“When he disappeared?” Sam asked. The girl hummed in response and nodded her head.

“He stole his mum’s car and said he was on a mission from God or something? He was crazy!”

“Shut up!” Channing’s roommate picked up the conversation from her end of the room, suddenly eyes lit with curiosity. “My friend Adam, same thing!”

“Shut up!” Channing echoed.

“Seriously! Mission from God.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the teenage girls, coughing loud enough to get their attention.

“Look, Channing. We know Kevin was here.”

“No, he wasn’t.” The girl replied crossly.

“We understand if you’re trying to protect him. But…” Sam interjected. “Nobody can protect Kevin better than we can.”

“I hate Kevin,” Channing explained with a disgusted expression. “I wouldn’t protect him.”

“I thought you two had a thing,” Dean asked confused. Channing laughed and crossed her arms tighter.

“Yeah, when he was going to Princeton!” The hunters looked at one another before looking back at Kevin’s apparently ex-girlfriend.

“Wow, just like that?” Dean asked. Channing shrugged.

“Yeah.”

.

.

The “FBI” agents had left the two college girls alone for the rest of their day. Channing went back to her desk and began working on collecting and gathering supplies.

“So now that you’re ready to forget about ‘what’s his name.’ This guy’s name is Kyle,” her roommate rambled on. “He’s Jewish and I’m pretty sure he had an Asian thing. Perfs right?” With work in hand, Channing turned in her seat to face her annoying preppy roommate. With a single blink, her eyes pooled with darkness and went solid black. With one hand she held a decorated bowl and in the other a small but sharp blade.

“Shut up, bitch!” She ordered, standing from her seat and darting towards the girl.

“What?” Before she could argue or fight back, the demon possessing Channing lunged her hand forward into the girl's throat, killing her and pooling her blood.

Once full, the demon held the bowl of blood and chanted in the words needed to make contact with hell.  
“The prophet has not yet shown his face to me. But you should know, Dean Winchester is back.”

.

.

After another reminded as to why she was glad to be a grown woman, Y/N hauled the boys to a cafe on campus. She hadn’t eaten or had any coffee that morning and was closer to stabbing Sam than she imagined she would have been. They gathered around a table in the usual fashion, Sam with a laptop in front of him. He was typing and searching intently when his eyes drifted for a second. He was lost in his own world until a waitress laid a tray down on their table.  
“Thank you.” He pushed the tray of food over to Dean and handed a coffee to Y/N she took it but avoided eye contact.

“Sweet mother of God!” Dean exclaimed, looking down at the fries and burger. “For me? Seriously?” Y/N laughed at Dean’s smile before stealing a fries from his plate.

“So check this! I went through the security campus archives around the time that Kevin went missing. Anyone look familiar?” He turned the screen to show the two others a blurry but definite black and white picture of Kevin in a baseball hat.

Y/N leaned forward to get a closer look, not noticing a button on her shit had come loose.

“So Kevin comes all this way but doesn’t see his girlfriend…” she asked the group. She looked to Dean first who’s mouth was drooling from food and his eyes clocked in strongly on her cleavage. Y/N looked down and up in shock, batting Dean strongly. “Oi! Eyes up here!”

“I haven’t seen a woman in a year. Sorry.” Dean said defensively. Y/N cringed and wrapped her blazer around her chest.

“So he hasn’t seen Channing.” She continued.

“I dunno. But I went to the computer lab and found where he logged on. Found out what websites he went on, what computer he was using, found out his username when his username last logged on, and reversed the IP address to the original user - Kevin! Who has apparently been using the same wireless router for the last two months.” Dean looked at his brother with a serious face, not understanding a word of what he was saying.

“That is spectacular work.” He complimented sarcastically. “Any chance we could get that in English?”

“He’s in Iowa at a coffee shop,” Sam explained with an unamused face. Y/N reached for her coffee, leaning back to take a sip.

“You know, If I just had a shirt of his or something, I could have found that out like that!” She clicked her fingers, sharing a pointed looking with Dean.

* * *

“A church? You sure this is the right place?” Y/N asked as she got out of Betty, her black 1966 Ford Mustang, and walked over to the boys. As much as she missed riding around in that sleek black Impala, she knew the less time she spent with Sam right now, the better.  
“The coffeeshop guy swears he’s seen Kevin ducking in here,” Sam explained as they all headed towards an entrance.

The doors were locked, no surprise there. Sam knocked on the door, shouting their presence and asking for Kevin to open up. Their names and voices should have been enough to grant them access, sadly however Dean still needs to pick the lock. They stepped in, slowly rounding the room and observing the abandoned interior of the old dusty church. As they stepped into the room, Kevin finally came into sight, only he was less than happy to see them. He held a gun in his hand and was shooting sprays off borax all over the hunters.

“okay stop!” Dean shouted. “Were not Leviathans. It’s us.”

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Kevin asked strongly.

“Cliff notes? I went to Purgatory, Sam hit a dog and Y/N has been playing hocus pocus.”

.

.

They continued to walk through the damp church, using a towel to slowly dry the dampness on their clothes. Y/N looked around, seeing a series of sigils and protection marks.  
“Who taught you all this?” She asked impressed.

“I guess God.”

“Hold on, God taught you how to track Demons?” Sam asked confused.

“Technically, yeah.” Kevin shrugged.

“But Crowley kidnapped you! We saw that!” Y/N questioned. “Then you left Sam a message saying you escaped. How?” Kevin sighed, reliving those terrible months in his head again.

“First he took me to a warehouse. There was a tablet there like the last one.”

“Wait, there’s another tablet? Another word of God?” Dean prompted.

“Yes.”

“How many words of God are there?”

“I just became a prophet like a year ago.” Kevin pointed out.

“Did this tablet have a name?” Sam asked.  
“Demons.” Kevin answered.  
“What about Demons?”

“As far as I could tell, everything.” His words landed heavily on the hunters. He told them how the tablet was difficult to read, just like the Leviathan tablet. But he was able to make out the word ‘hell-gates.’ “There’s one in Whistconston. The tablet told me how to open it. They’re ingredients for a spell.” Kevin went through with the spell, the demons collecting his ingredients as instructed.

“You showed the King of Hell how to open a hell gate? So all the Demons could come out of hell at once!” Dean shouted.

“What?’ Kevin asked offended. “No!” Kevin had lied about the ingredients he needed. “I told Crowley I was reading about the Hell Gates. But I was reading from another chapter. How to destroy demons.” The hunters looked on at the prophet as he strutted around the church proudly, and couldn’t deny he’d earned the right to do so.

“You son of a bitch.” Dean laughed and congratulated the kid.

“Where’s the tablet now?” Sam asked worriedly.

“Safe.”

“Safe where?”

“As long as it’s safe!” Dean insisted, calming his brother down. “Was there anything else you managed to read before you stashed it?”

“Only the stuff about closing the gates of hell… forever. Banishing and locking away all demons. forever.”

.

.

Night had fallen and Kevin wandered off to sit by himself. The heaviness of the burden he carried clinging to his shoulders. The hunters had gathered around, talking strategies, and figuring out their next step. When the conversation went silent, Sam separated and went to talk to Kevin. Kevin sat on a pew, facing the main altar of the church. Sam chose the seat behind.

“Kevin, I owe you an apology.” He began. “When you and Dean, and y/n, went missing I needed to clear my head. And I’m thinking you were one of the pieces I should have picked up.” Y/N stood by the door, listening to the words falling from Sam’s lips. He vaguely explained his story to Kevin and the two both shared the hardship of no longer being civilians.  
“Ever since I became a prophet, it’s hard to believe this is actually my life.” Y/N heard him say to Sam.

“Yeah, it sucks right now. It might suck for a lot while longer but trust me on this. It gets better.” Kevin looked at Sam with hopefully but unbelieving eyes. “If we can do this. Get the tablet, get you everything you need to close the gates of hell. Three a world out there where nobody, not Crowley, no demon is chasing you anymore.”

“I guess I can’t see how I get from here to there,” Kevin admitted sadly.

“I used to not be able to see it too,” Sam confessed. “But there is a way.” Kevin nodded, taking in the words of hope from the youngest Winchester and left the room, preparing himself for their mission. Y/N smiled at Kevin as he brushed past her and patted his back comfortingly. She stepped into the room, knowing Sam had heard her presence. When he turned and faced her, the final seconds of his remaining expression hit a nerve Y/N had been trying to avoid.  
“Y/N I need to…”

“No,” she said calmly. “I”m not ready to have that conversation with you yet.” Sam looked at her confused.  
“Wha…why?”  
“Because that look on your face, the one you’ve been trying to hide all day.” She shrugged and crossed her shoulder, forcing her words to be gentle and quiet. “You’re thinking about her. You miss her. I used to catch my reflection and see that exact face on myself.” She didn’t have to explain to Sam she was referring to him. The many times she would be working and thinking about Sam without realizing. Shed reminisce about their first kiss, the way he held her and promised he’d never leave her. She’d smile for a moment and then reality would hit. Her face would fall, she would miss him despite her anger and it would be written all over her face. “If we have that chat now it’s only going to make you hurt more than you already are. And even though there’s a part of me that really wants you to feel that pain…” she sighed. “I don’t really.” Before more words could be exchanged Dean strode into the room with a mission written on his face. Now was not the time Y/N and Sam would have that chat. But there was a heaviness in the air that told them they would soon.

As the four stood in the main room of the church, the ground began to shake. They all could feel something approaching.

“We’ve got company.” Y/N told them. The floor beneath started split and the devil's traps were broken.  
“Sam.” Dean reached into his bag and passed Sam a demon knife to tool himself. He then reached into his bag again and pulled out another knife. It was a large knife with extended areas, sharp and looked hideous.  
“What the hell is that?” Y/N asked, stepping forward and running her fingers along the blade.  
“That is Purgatory,” Dean said proudly.

The doors to the church swung open, revealing two demons, Y/N reached out and grabbed Kevin, shielding him with her body.  
“You have one of those knife things?” Kevin asked.  
“Don’t need one.” She replied plainly. Sam looked at her oddly but was quickly distracted.  
“Dean Winchester, back from Purgatory.” One of the demons spoke.  
“Spanky the Demon! Yeah, I heard about you! You’re the one who uses too much teeth right?” The demons lunged at the fight began. One Demon went to send Dean to the floor, but he was quick to block and use his weight to fight the demon with his fists and legs. The other darted for Kevin, sending Y/N and Sam out of the way before they could strike. But Kevin was smart and with his holy water gun, sprayed the Demon in the face. When the Demon stumbled back, Sam scrambled to his feet with knife in hand lunging for the demon. But this demon grabbed his arm and sent the knife flying in the air. He punched sam, knocking him down onto the floor and holding him down with his body. Y/N screamed something in words the boys couldn’t understand, motioning her hands and sending the demon flying in the air and landing on the wooden ground with the sound of a crack.  
“Sam!” She alerted him, before motioning her hands once again. This time the tossed knife slid across the floor and into Sam’s hand. Sam looked at her with wide eyes, shocked and slightly fearful. But was quickly brought back into focus when the demon quickly recovered. Sam plunged the knife into the Demon’s chest before it could attack and held it in place until he was certain the demon and body were dead.  
Across the room, Dean continued to struggle with the other demon. Somehow it had managed to free Dean of his weapon and was currently squeezing the air from his neck and lungs. Sam chucked the knife in Dean's direction who was swift to plunge it into the demon's stomach and kill him dead.

Gasping for air and standing up onto their feet again, the hunters attempted to recover from the quick but violent encounter they had just faced.  
“What the hell was that?” Sam walked up to Y/N, motioning to her hands and the direction they had taken. When he looked at her again, he saw the dark red dripping from her nose. “What happened?” Before Y/N could answer, there was a new voice added to their conversation.  
“Hello, Boys.” They turned and standing in the hallway was Crowley, and by his side a possessed Channing. “Dean! You’re looking… well let's just say Purgatory didn’t do you any favors now did it? Where’s your angel?”

“Ask your mother.” He replied.  
“there’s that grade-school whit. Missed it I really did. Moose! Still with the pork chops! I admire that! And miss Jaguar! You’ve been a busy little thing this year haven’t you! Oh, looks like you’ve got a bit of a mess coming right there.” He pointed to her bleeding nose which she quickly wiped away and until it was clean. Crowley laughed as if he had a secret.

“Let Channing go,” Kevin spoke up, seeing his old girlfriend standing by the king of hell.  
“It’s not Channing, Kevin. Not anymore.” Dean said sternly.  
“What an awful thing to say to the boy, of course, it’s Channing!” Crowley’s voice was just as smug and annoying as ever. “Kev, last time we danced you stole my tablet. You killed my men. I tell you what, you come with me now and we’ll let it be bygone. And ill let the girl go back to… what the point U.”

“He’s lying,” Dean told him. “He’s not going to let her go. She’s probably dead already.”  
“Why do you keep saying that? Let the girl speak.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the demon eyes faded away. Channing’s entire body language changed as she was back in control of her body once again. Her eyes fell upon Kevin and she smiled brightly!  
“Kevin?”

“Channing!” Kevin replied.  
“What’s going on?”  
“There's a demon in you and you’re going to your safety school.”  
“What?” She asked in horror.  
“It’s going to be okay!” Crowley laughed at the interaction between the two youths.  
“I just can’t.” He snapped his fingers and the inky black eyes returned to Channing’s face.  
“Okay, I’ll do it!” Kevin stepped forward. “Myself for the girl! But this ends!no fighting, no nothing. It ends.”

“I can’t let you do that buddy,” Dean spoke up. If Kevin was to hand himself over to Crowley right now, not only would his life be truly in danger, but then there would be no hope of closing the gates of hell.  
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Kevin challenged. Crowley smirked at the boy's courage and the pain on the hunter's face. “I'll go get my stuff.” Kevin went into the back room and out from sight.  
“This ain’t over by a long shot.” Dean gritted through his teeth. The smirk on Crowley’s face told him he had the upper hand. Or he at least felt like he had.  
“You know…” he turned his attention to Y/N, standing in-between Dean and Sam. “You might want to tell them about your little advancement this past year.” He laughed at the expression on the boys' faces as they looked to question Y/N. “Come on Kevin!” Crowley called. No answer. He sighed and went to walk forward. Dean lifted the demon blade, threatening him not to step forward. Crowley lifted a hand and the handle of the blade suddenly became hot and glowed brightly. Dean dropped the knife before it could burn his hand any more, and Crowley stepped past them.

Crowley opened the back door Kevin had gone behind, searching for his Prophet on a lead. The demon beside him followed and as the door opened, they saw Kevin holding on to a rope. “Kevin, really?” Crowley asked disappointed before Kevin let go of the rope and a large pale of holy water fell upon the demons.  
“Guys! RUN!” Kevin yelled to the hunters. As the hunters ran from out the front door, Kevin ran from out the side. As the demons screamed in pain they all ran and lunged into the Impala. As they closed the door and Dean revel on the engine, they looked on and saw a Crowley and the demon stood on the porch outside.  
“Find another meat suit,” Crowley said to the demon. Dean drove past as the demon left Channing in a puff of black smoke, leaving the real human looking up at the man beside her with confused. Kevin and the hunters watched as Crowley twisted his hand, and within a second Channing’s neck was snapped and she was dead.


	2. What's Up, Tiger Mommy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After convincing the trio to let him go and check on his mother, Kevin and the gang resource her from a collection of Demons. With Linda along for the ride of getting the Demons tablet, things don’t go as easy as they thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Mrs Tran! I love Linda and was very excited to see her in Season 8! I know I’ve already warned you, but allow me to warn again. Y/N and Sam are rather rocky right now, so expect old couple styled bickering. Enjoy my loves!

“You’re joking right?” Dean spat through his burger. Since returning from Purgatory he was divulging in take-out meals more than he ever did before. If his cholesterol wasn’t anything to worry about before, it defiantly was now. But right now the main worry Y/N had was stopping Dean from cuffing and gagging Kevin into submission.

“Is it too much to ask that we swing by and check on my mum?” Kevin repeated his question. Where Dean wouldn’t stop eating, Kevin had barely taken a bite from his meal since they sat down outside the food truck.  
“Swing by? It’s a day’s drive in the opposite direction! You get that right?”  
“Yes, I understand that we’re in a hurry.”

“Right, so what’s the problem then?” Dean asked with his mouth full still.

“Channing’s broken neck is my problem!” Kevin burst out angrily.  
“Kevin,” Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. Guilt quickly flashed on his face. He liked Y/N and didn’t like disappointing or upsetting her. He quietened his tone and turned his answer to her instead of Dean. “I’d rather not see my Mom twisted into a corkscrew.” Y/N nodded and smiled sympathetically.

“He’s got a point, Dean.” Sam finally joined in on the conversation. Y/N was still fighting her feelings of betrayal and anger, the sound of Sam’s voice wasn’t helping her. Luckily it was Dean who interjected and quieted him down.  
“Stay out of this.” Sam smiled humorously at his brother, turning to look at Y/N and seeing her smirk as well. Their eyes met briefly and both their smiles dropped. “Kevin your mom’s fine.”

“How can you possibly know that?” Kevin asked desperately.  
“Because Crowley needs her alive. He’s probably got the place packed with bodyguards right now, protecting her, so when you do show up they’ll pounce on you both.”

“That’s not going to make him feel better, Dean.” Y/N told him with unimpressed eyes. No logical thought process was going to change Kevin’s mind.  
“She’s bait!’ Dean exasperated, waving his hands in the air. “You want us to swim right on up and bite the hook?” He asked her. “We’ve got Crowley by the short and curlies. All we need to do is find the tablet, whip up the spell, and Boom! Sun and sandy beaches all around.”

“Well… for a week. We’ll still have to deal with vampires, werewolves, ghosts…” Dean threw his napkin at Y/N, shutting her up. She pouted sarcastically back.

“Dean, my moms all alone. She’s surrounded by demons. Can you really not understand why I would want to make sure she’s okay?” Dean continued to chew on his burger, taking in the reaction of everyone at the table. Kevin was throwing him sad puppy dog eyes. Y/n and Sam were both pulling that annoying shrug look that said there was no problem and he was being cynical. Considering they were currently on a rocky path, they still acted like an annoying couple.  
“Son of a bitch.” Dean complained. He put his burger down on the table and wiped his mouth angrily. “Fine! Let’s go!”

* * *

They pulled up across the street from Kevin’s old home early the next morning. They all sat in the Impala watching people walking up and down the street, waiting for a sign of Kevin’s mom.  
“What’s that you’re drinking?” Dean asked, looking in the rear-view mirror and observing the bright pink bottle Y/N was sipping from.  
“A smoothie.” She said suspiciously.  
“You’re supposed to be a cool hunter chick! Why aren’t you drinking whisky or a beer.” He wined childishly.  
“Because it’s ten in the morning Dean!” She countered with a scrunched face. Dean rolled his eyes at the health freaks that surrounded him.  
“Tiger Mom, nine o’clock.” Sam’s voice cut through their argument as he looked through the binoculars and spotted Kevin’s mom in the window. Kevin leaned over Y/N to grab the binoculars from Sam’s hands. He put them up to his face and looked through to see the image of his mom by the window. She looked out with tired eyes and washed out skin, desperately hoping to see a face that looked like her son's.

“She seems okay,” Kevin said to himself. “Sad, but okay.” Y/N continued to scan around the building, observing every person living on this street. She sighed regretfully. Dean was right.  
“you see that mailman?” She asked. Kevin turned his attention to the middle-aged man in the blue cap, rummaging through letters in Mrs. Tran’s letterbox.  
“Yeah, that’s Carl. So what?”

“He’s filled up your mom's letterbox three times since we got here.” She told the rest of the car.  
“He’s a demon?” Kevin asked. Dean continued to survey the people around the house and spotted another suspect.  
“Check out the Gardner.” He pointed out. “You think that plant needs any more water?” The hose had been spraying a brightly flowered bush constantly for fifteen minutes. The water was dripping down the concrete steps and making pools on the main road.

.

The gardener continued to spray the plant with water when suddenly the hose came to a halt. He put it down, walking around to the side of the house to see the end pulled out from the tap. He bent down to inspect it, but when he stood back up, Dean jumped from his hiding spot and stabbed him in the chest with the Demon knife. It was a quick and clean kill.

The mailman did another round of the street, walking past the back gate of Mrs. Tran’s house. He heard a suspicious bang and changed his route. He pushed through the gate and saw Y/N standing casually with a smug grin and a waving hand. Before he had time to think, Sam jumped out from nowhere plunged the knife into his chest.  
“Two out of two. Not bad.” Y/N shrugged.

.

Completely unaware of the chaos going on around her house, Mrs. Tran sat back down at her table, picking up her playing cards and listening to the words of her neighbor who had popped round for moral support.  
“He’ll be back. You just have to believe.” She insisted gently.  
“Thanks, Unice. And I do believe, I just wish I could do more.” Linda said soberly.  
“Linda, you’re doing all you should by staying right here. He needs to know he’s got a home to come back to.” And like magic, a knock came from the door.

Linda opened the door, expecting it to be another concerned neighbor. But she was met with a pleasant surprise when her boy’s smiling and shining face stood in front of her.  
“Hi, Mom.”

“Kevin? Oh, Kevin!” Linda stepped forward, ready to embrace her son in her arms. She’d barely taken a step outside of the house when Dean and Sam both stepped out, splashing her face with holy water and Borax.  
“She’s clean,” Dean stated evenly. The reunion continued by Kevin closing the space and holding his mother tightly. But this time, Y/N was the one to step forward into sight.  
“You guys smell that?” She asked, breathing the air. The boys followed her actions and took in the unmistakable smell of sulfur. They all glanced panicked at one another and ran into action. They all took a room on the lower floor, but it was Y/N who walked into the kitchen to see the Demon. Linda’s friend Unice, coated in a bright yellow cardigan, began breathing out dark smoke as the demon inside her fled. "Et secta diabolica, omnis congregatio, omnis legio, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis spiritus, exorcizamus!” Y/N chanted loudly. Everyone ran into the room and watched as the black smoke returned to the elderly woman’s form and became trapped. Kevin held his mother back as Dean plunged the demon knife into the woman’s stomach and killed the demon.  
“UNICE!” Linda screamed in shock as the woman dropped to the floor.  
“That’s not Unice,” Dean told her coldly.

.

“Mr’s Tran, your friend was possessed by a Demon,” Sam explained calmly. They all sat around a table, explaining the horrendous events that had just happened, along with the events of the last year.  
“You ever see The Exorcist?” Kevin offered.  
“Is that what you’ve been doing all year? Watching Television?” Kevin looked away, fighting an eye - roll. He couldn’t decide if he was comforted or annoyed to see that his mother hadn’t changed much this past year. “Did you really have to kill her?” She sighed.

“The demon would have warned Crowley where Kevin was if we didn’t,” Dean told her.

“And Crowley’s the one who kidnapped you?” She asked her son.  
“Yeah, he needs me to translate this stupid tablet so he can take over the universe or something.”

“Which is why we need to get it so we can slam the gates of hell shut, with Crowley inside,” Dean smirked.  
“And then things like this, won’t happen again.” Y/N added softer. Linda didn’t spend much time thinking in silence before she nodded and smiled.  
“Prophet of the lord huh? Does have a nice ring to it. Okay, I’ll go get packed.”

Everyone stood up, ready to get moving, and put a plan into action.  
“Right, we’ve got to find a safe house. Crowley’s been to the cabin and…”

“Safehouse? I thought we were going to get the tablet?” Mrs. Tran stopped and turned to integrate the hunters.  
“We are. You’re going to a demon free zone.” Dean instructed.

“And risk Kevin falling into the hands of this Crowley again?” Linda scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Mrs. Tran, with all due respect. Dean’s right. Crowley isn’t just a killer. He trades in torment. If he can find a way to separate your soul from you, he’ll take it to hell and roast it until there’s nothing left but black smoke.” Sam’s words only seemed to affect Kevin, who looked uneasy at the thought of Crowley’s torment being placed upon his mother. Linda, however, stayed put and strongly footed.  
“I understand. But it’s not my soul I’m worried about. It’s my son’s.” She crossed her arms stubbornly. Dean tutted and turned to Kevin.  
“Kevin, you want to back us up here? We came all the way down here to pull her out of the fire, now she wants to jump right back in.” Kevin looked at his mother and shrugged.  
“You think I can tell her what to do?” Dean rolled his eyes and turned to Y/N.  
“You wanna give it a go? Woman to woman?” Y/N pierced her eyes at Dean in annoyance.  
“I’m not even going to begin and tell you how stupid that sounds.” Dean threw his hands up in the air and looked at Linda’s smug smile. He chuckled annoyingly.  
“Fine. Coming with us has some ground rules. First, hex bags to keep you off the bad guy's radar. And err… you’re gonna have to get inked up.” Dean smiled, expecting his final words to put both Kevin and his mother off the idea of her tagging along.  
“Do what now?” Well, it worked on Kevin.  
“Yeah, you too shortstop.” Sam pulled down the collar of his shirt. Flashing the black ink symbol on his chest. Y/N’s heart fluttered briefly, but she remembered how annoyed she was at him before her cheeks began to blush. “Keeps the demon’s out.”  
“Fine,” Linda answered casually.  
“Really?” Dean asked, not buying her unfazed exterior.  
“Like this is my first tattoo?”

* * *

Linda lay back in her chair, face not affected by the needle scaring her skin with black ink. She made no noise as the needle went in and out of her arm. Kevin however was squealing and squirming like a pig in pain. She looked over to her son and reached out her spare hand for him to hold in comfort.

The hunters looked on from across the room.  
“You guys smell that?” Dean asked cheerfully.  
“What, the smell of burning flesh?” Sam asked sarcastically.  
“The smell of revenge! It’s so close!” Dean laughed to himself. Y/N chuckled and crossed her arms at the childlike behavior from the hunter. “How’d you do that reverse exorcism?” He asked her curiously. Sam turned to look at her, having wondered the same thing.  
“I just said the verse backward.” She told them with a shrug. The boys hummed in amusement. Then a thought crossed Dean’s mind.  
“You have a tattoo right?” He asked Y/N.  
“Of course I have a tattoo.” Y/N replied with her face scrunched in confusion at his question. Dean continued to look at her expectingly. “What?” She asked.  
“Well let’s see it then!” Y/N looked between the brothers, trying to gauge the joke.  
“You’re joking!” Dean shook his head and Sam looked down at the ground embarrassingly. “I’m not showing you my tattoo!”  
“Why? Where is it?” Dean asked with a cocked eyebrow.  
“Somewhere you’ll never see it.” Y/n groaned unamused and turning her attention back to Linda and Kevin.  
“Have you seen it?” Dean whispered across to Sam.  
“No, he hasn’t.” Y/N said angrily.

* * *

After scanning the bus stop for any signs of being followed or any demons lurking on the ground, Kevin handed Dean the locker key where he’d stashed the tablet.  
“Okay, positive thoughts.” Dean chimed, holding the bright yellow key. They all went over to stand by the locker and watched as Dean unlocked and opened the door. He pulled out a large bag painted in pastel colors and yellow smiling ducks. “You hid the word of God in a diaper bag?”

“No,” Kevin responded. Everyone looked at the diaper in Dean’s hand with concern. Crap.

.

.

They searched out the head of security to report the problems with the lockers.

“We’ve had nothing but problems with these lockers. Been broken into almost every day for a while there. Could never figure out who it was until yesterday.” He was older than the three who stood before him. He looked the type to be happy with a modest job with just enough money to get him by. No need for extra flashy things.  
“So you know who did it?” Sam asked.  
“It was Clem Smedly, the guy who ran the desk before me.”

“Please tell me he’s down in jail right now,” Dean begged silently.  
“Yep, waiting for arraignment.” Y/N smiled brightly and thanked the man before they all turned on their heels and headed in their new direction.

* * *

Clem Smedly looked just as slimy as his name sounded. With lines around his eyes, paired with dark circles and bloodshot vines. His eyes were alerted to Y/N’s presence the second she entered the room. His thin lips curved upwards into an amused grin, reminding Y/N of a reptile once they saw their prey standing alone, out in the open. But she wasn’t alone, and even if she was, Y/N wasn’t a helpless unaware white bunny rabbit in a forest. Smedly’s bright orange jumpsuit contrasted against the white and grey streaks in his thinning hair. Somehow, even without the luxury of his own possessions and clothing, he still looked greedy.

As Y/N pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, her worries and concerns moved away from Smedly and towards the other hunter walking circles around the room. Sam sat down and started introducing them to the culprit, not paying much attention to his brother pacing across the floor. Y/N watched with fearful curiosity as Sam spoke to Smedly. Something had shifted with Dean. The second they stepped into the interrogation room, his whole demeanor had changed. He had that look in his eyes. It was the look all hunters had, seconds before they plunged their weapon of choice into a monsters gut.

“In one of those lockers, there was a tablet. Do you know where it is?” Sam asked Smedly.

“Can I even acknowledge that without my lawyer here?” Smedly laughed. Y/N fought back an eyeball. This man was the definition of a weasel. Here he was, changed and cuffed in prison and he was still trying to worm his way out of the situation he got himself into.  
“Look, I’m sure we could sort a little something, something out with the locals if you choose to co-operate.” Y/N didn’t like Sam making a deal with this excuse of a man, but they needed that tablet. As Smedly continued to tease and joke about gaining immunity, Y/N saw how Dean suddenly halted his pacing and honed in his stare on his prey. She thought she saw his eyes glass over as he was taken out of the room and back to Purgatory

_The world was dark again, with no sunlight and no color. Covered in guts and dirt, Dean stood by and watched as Benny tied up the monster with chains against the rough bark of a tree.  
“I don’t think he knows, man.” Benny’s deep voice told him as he walked away. Dean cocked an eyebrow and stepped up the monster.  
“Oh, he knows.” He said grimly, propping up his knife on the monster's shoulder. “Where’s the angel?” _

Y/N found herself frozen as she watched Dean loosen his tie and wrap the ends around his hands. He casually walked around the back of Smedly as he spoke.  
“here’s what I’m thinking. Full immunity for all charges past, present, and future.”  
“Sam.” Y/N warned quickly, just as Dean took his makeshift rope and pulled Smedly out of his chair by the neck. He pushed him against the wall and watched the fear fill up in Smedly’s eyes. Dean pulled out his knife and pressed it to his throat.  
“Hey!” Sam called, smacking his hand on the table, trying to pull Dean out of his trance. Sam and Y/N both knew there would be problems with Dean and his aggression after purgatory. He’d spent a year facing the darkest of monsters and using violent force to survive, but this wasn’t a demon of a leviathan. This was just a scummy man. “Dean come on!”

_Dean was lost in his own mind. He’d been taken back to the dark night, facing a creature from hell and holding it hostage with his knife.  
“You feel that?” He asked, digging the knife into the monster's side.  
“there’s a stream.” The monster coughed out. “It runs through a clearing not far from here I’ll show you.” Dean removed the knife from the monster's side and held it up to his throat.  
“How about you just tell me.” He said with a sinister smile. _

“Dean!” Sam yelled again. His brother wasn’t loosening his grip.  
“Pawnshop.” Smedly gasped. “First in Maine.” Y/N could see in Dean’s reflection he was lost to whatever memory he was trapped in. For the first time since he’d been back, she was worried he was going to kill the wrong monster.  
“He’s gonna kill him.” She whispered quietly to Sam.  
“Dean, come on!” Sam called again. But Dean wasn’t letting go. Y/N exhaled heavily and stretched her hands. She felt the shiver through her veins as focused her mind and whispered the words,

“Regressus.” She waved her hand underneath the table and watched how Dean finally let go of his grip and returned to the room he was in. Y/N saw Sam’s double-take at her, not sure if he’d heard or seen her right. She stood up before he had a chance to ask any questions. “Come on.” She ordered them both.

* * *

The drive over to the pawnshop didn’t last long, lucky for Y/N. She sat in the back seat with Kevin and Mrs. Tran but could see the glances Sam was making through the mirror. He wanted to ask his questions but wouldn’t do it until they were alone. Y/N just had to make sure that didn’t happen, not now anyway. They parked up behind an obnoxiously bright red sports car that Kevin marveled at as they walked past. Linda quickly lectured his attention back onto the task at hand.

The pawnshop smelt like most pawnshops they visited. Dusty and damp.  
“Hello sir, we’re here with the FBI. Agents Neel, Stix, and Stabilo. We’re looking for a tablet.” Sam flashed his badge as they stood up to the glass counter. Kevin and Linda stayed back by the door, letting the suited hunters take the lead.  
“About yay big,” Dean used his hands to make an invisible box, the same size as the tablet. “Got some hieroglyphic crap written on it.”  
“Sold to you by a thief named Clem.” Y/N finished. “Ring a bell?” The young man behind the counter looked just like a young Smedly, same annoying and smug face.  
“Nope.” Was all he said. Sam and Y/N sighed as Dean looked at his name tag.  
“Hey, Lyle. I’ve had a really really bad day today, so I’m not really in the mood. If you want to do this the rough way, I am happy to oblige.”  
“Sure, we could do it that way. If you wanna get famous.”  
“What?” Dean asked.  
“Dean, look,” Y/N sighed, pointing to the security cameras pointing at them.  
“Is that your car outside?” Mrs. Tran asked from the door.  
“What’s it to you mail order?”

“HEY!” Dean yelled, smashing his palm on the counter. Linda just laughed and stepped forward.  
“I got it. I noticed you’re driving with expired tags. Maybe because you just required it in a trade. And I’m guessing that means you haven't registered it yet. Which means you haven’t paid the tax. Is that correct?” Lyle sat up in his seat, suddenly even more on the defensive.  
“None of your business.” He attempted to sound tough.  
“Kevin? Average bluebook on twenty-ten Ferrari F4-30 Spider?”  
“270,000” Kevin answered his mother.  
“And the 5% Wyoming tax?”

“10,850.” This time Sam answered. A year ago, his nerdy show off brain would have made Y/N smile, right now she just had the same expression as Dean.  
“$10,000. Something tells me you're the type that might bawk at a tax bill that big.” Linda smirked at the young man, who no longer looked so smug.  
“What is this? An FBI audit?”  
“No, but my brother who happens to work for the Wyoming Tax office could arrange that. If he thought something untoward was happening here. So what’s it going to be? The tablet, or that piece of Euro-trash you call a car?” The hunters looked at one another with impressed smiles on their faces.  
“I like her.” Y/N announce proudly.

* * *

They arrived at the motel in less than ten minutes, neon green all over the building's signage and decor. They stood around the room 126 and waited as Sam knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response.  
“You sure this is the right place?” He asked Y/N.  
“It’s what the pawnshop slip said.” she barked back.  
“You don’t have to bite my head off. I’m just asking.”  
“And I’m just telling you, it was the slip said!” The two argued back and forth before Dean finally stepped in.  
“Alright you two, enough!”  
“Kevin?” A higher-pitched and proper voice came from behind the group. They all turned to see the source. A smallish man in a grey three-piece suit and a top hat stood with a cocked hip in front of them.  
“Who wants to know?” Dean asked defensively.  
“Relax Dean, I’m not here to steal your prophet.” Everyone looked taken back. It was never a good sign when a stranger knew their names. “Ah, and you must be Kevin’s mother.” He stepped forward towards Linda, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Boe, and it is my absolute pleasure.” He introduced himself suavely. “And Kevin,” Boe stepped back as Linda’s son stepped closer to her side. “Imagine my luck! Here I was searching for you, I never thought you would be looking for me. I have something for you.”  
“What is it?” Dean asked as Boe reached into his inner jacket pocket.  
“An invitation, my dear man. To a very exclusive auction.”

“Let me guess,” Y/N stood forward. “Where you’ll be selling the tablet?”

“Well, when you acquire an item such as the Word of God, it's a good idea to unload it as quickly as possible. And we are in dire need of headliner.” He turned the end of his sentence to Kevin, making Mrs. Tran stand closer in front of him, protecting her son from Boe’s greedy stare.  
“Well, I hope you’ve got four more tickets there because the prophet’s not going anywhere without us.” Y/N told the man, with her head held high and hunter instincts ready to attack and defend.  
“If you’re worried about the safety of the prophet, rest assured. We have a strict no casting, no cursing, no supernaturally flicking you against the wall for the fun of it policy.”

“Is that right? How’d you manage that?” Sam asked.  
“Well, I am the right hand of a god after all,” Boe announced proudly. “Plutus specifically.”

“Is that even a planet anymore?” Dean scoffed.  
“He’s the God of Greed,” Y/N corrected him.  
“Yes, and my liege has wardered these premises against hell, heaven, and beyond. Quite necessary with some of the players we see.” He ended his sentence with a drifted stare towards Y/N, making her nerves itch cautiously. He laughed to himself before turning back to the matter at hand. “But since time is of the essence, I’ll add plus four to the prophet's invitation.” Boe threw the paper in the air. Everyone looked up at the note and watched as if fell to the ground. When It reached the concrete everyone notice that Boe was gone.  
“Well thank you Mr. Peanut!” Dean shouted into the wind. “Right, what do we have to bid?” Sam scoffed at his brother. “What? We can’t show up empty-handed.”

“Dean all we have to our name is a few hacked Gold cards!”

“Alright, then we’re gonna have to get creative.”  
“huh.” Sam thought about his brother's words, and an idea entered his mind. “Well…” his eyes moved to Baby. Y/N laughed to herself as she watched Dean's face drop and he ran to his car's side.  
“No! Say it and I will kill you, your children, and your grandchildren!” He growled.  
“Alright fine!” Sam surrendered, holding his hands up. “Wait a second. These auctions, they display the items to the bidders beforehand right?”  
“Yeah so?”  
“So we just need to get Kevin close enough to memories the spell.” Dean considered his brother's plan and turned to Kevin.  
“What you think brainiac? Think you can swing it?”  
“Of course he can swing it. If the sticker on my bumper is anything to go by.” Linda answered him proudly.

Dean turned to his car as everyone got ready to set off to the destination.  
“He didn’t mean it, Baby.” He whispered to the black car. Y/N stood by laughing to herself. Dean looked up at her with annoyance. “What you laughing at? You wouldn’t be smiling if it was your car we were offering away.”

“Well lucky for me we can’t. Because the second you two idjits came back into my life, my car got abandoned in some church graveyard!” He shouted back bitterly.

* * *

Y/N felt the warding the second she walked into the building. The energy drained from her body and she stumbled as she went through the metal detector.  
“You okay?” Sam turned to watch the color drain from her face. He placed a warm hand on her shoulder but she was quick to brush it off.  
“I’m fine.” She said dismissively, walking past him. Sam rolled his eyes, following the smaller woman in front of him.  
“How long are you going to be this pissy with me?” He asked under his breath, thinking she wouldn’t hear him.  
“At least another four weeks.” She replied angrily and sarcastically.

The ringing of alarms made the two more away from their squabble and watch as Dean reluctantly handed over the last of his hidden weapons. Be rolled his eyes angrily and they began scouting the room.  
“How are we supposed to know who’s who?” He asked as they walked.  
“It’s pretty simple Dean. They’re all monsters.”  
“Guys look!” Y/N hurried over to a glass box. The table sat upright in the frame, but a sheet of metal was placed over the writing.  
“Guess we’re not as original as we thought.” Kevin sighed.  
“It’s okay, we just gotta come up with a plan B.” Sam tried to reassure them.  
“And what, pray tell, could have been Plan A?” They turned at the sound of Crowley's voice. “Bring the prophet to the most dangerous place on earth, get him close enough to memories the tablet, and then va-moose?” Crowley smirked at his own joke and the shocked faces in front of him. “Hello Boys.” Crowley stepped forward cockily. “Kevin, nice to see you! Sorry about your little play date. And who is this lovely young thing? Must be your sister.” He looked down at Linda, which was his big mistake. She threw her right hand up and straight into his chin. He buckled back and grimaced in pain.  
“Stay away from my son.” She ordered sternly.  
“Charming. devilling your corpse just became number one on my to do list.” Dean went to step forward to defend Mrs Tran, but but Sam held him back. “Uh uh,” Crowly sand. “I don’t mind a little love tap but anything more and you might get kicked out.” Dean looked around at the bouncers and security guards the building had in place. Annoying, Crowley was right. “Besides, I think you should worry more about your little friend over there.” He pointed to Y/N who was staying back behind the boys. “Looking rather pale, Jaguar.” The sickness in Y/N’s stomach was growing and a headache was boiling behind her eyes. But like hell was she going to show weakness in a time like this.  
“I don’t need your worry.” She sniped back at Crowley.

Before any more jabs could be thrown, a man in a tracksuit and gold chain around his neck walked in proudly.  
“Ah, here comes our host.” Crowley proclaimed before moving to take his seat.  
“That’s Plutus? What is he, the god of the candy aisle?” Plutus wasn’t living up to Dean's image of a god with his beer belly.

“Gentleman, the bidding is starting.” Boe walked in behind his god, motioning to the team to take their seats.

They all sat down in their seats, except for Dean who was held back by a young man in a waiting outfit. When things got calmer, the rest of the trio learned that this was in fact an angel, named Samandrial. He had been sent from heaven to attempt to regain the word of God. But whilst he was here, he wanted to ask Dean about Castiel. Dean was left to give him the news that Castiel had not made it out of Purgatory like himself.

Y/N and Sam stared ahead, not looking at one another.  
“You going to tell me what’s wrong?” He asked. He could see her health fading before his eyes. It was like her life was being drained.  
“Nope.” She said plainly.  
“Does it have anything to do with the new powers you think I haven't noticed you using?” He said quietly. Y/n continued to look on ahead.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Y/N.” The harshness of his saying her name snapped Y/N head to look at him. His eyes were serious and filled with worry. She matched his worry with fake annoyance.  
“Now is not the time. Let’s focus on getting this stupid rock and then you can ask me all the pointless questions you want.” They stared angrily at one another, waiting for the other to give in to their stubbornness, but neither did. Eventually, Dean appeared from his chat and sat between the two, putting an end to their game of the wills.  
“So you two have history.” Mrs. Tran whispered to Y/N.  
“Something like that.” She replied.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, and others!” Boe called out. “Welcome to this once in a lifetime event.” He began listing the names of some of the items and began pulling out long words to make the items seem even more impressive. Everyone on the hunter's row dug out their wallets, counting up all the money and valuables they had and passing them down to Dean.  
“I don’t know why you’re so keen on that tablet anyway. Just so you can blast back a few demons. I’ll just make more. Can’t get rid of my black eyes boys Samantha.” Crowley was murmuring behind time, a small attempt to get into their head. Sam bit the hook and turned to give Crowley his death stare.  
“Yeah, We’ll see.” He turned back as Dean nudged him.  
“Okay, we’ve got hacked credit cards, about two thousand dollars and…. And a Cosco Membership.”

“The first Item: the Amulet of Thespulis” boy lifted up a large star-like pendant on a chain and proudly presented it. “Let's start the bidding with three tons of Dwarf Gold?” The hunter's faces fell. They were way out of their depth. The bid continued to rise to higher amounts and the trio felt their defeat.  
“Plan C?” Sam asked.  
“Big-time,” Dean answered. “I'm gonna use the restroom.” Dean stood up and left the room. The rest of the team sat on their hands, hoping he was about to perform some amazing heist act.

.

Dean wandered the halls, watching as one of the staff took a cart of auction items into a locked room. He hid out of sight until the men relocked the door and walked past him. Dean pretended to knock into him, apologizing as he did. He managed to swipe the key from the mans pockets and made his way to the room he’d just left. He opened the door and was met with the tablet, and two other faces.  
“This isn’t the men's room!” He feigned ignorance before closing the door and returning to his seat.

.

He felt the bitter coldness and tension between his brother and friend. Fighting the urge to slap both of them for the stubbornness, he ushered Sam a seat along to sit next to Y/N. “Plan C tanked.” He told them.  
“Perhaps you should try Plan D for dumbass,” Crowley added. They all turned to show their unimpressed faces for his unwanted comment.

“Our next lot: The word of God. Capital G. Very old and very rare.” Boe called out into the room, grabbing the alert attention of all his guests. Crowley was quick to stand and offer his bid. “Three Billion Dollars.”  
“Whoah.” The boys both marveled.The young man dressed I’m a brightly colored waiting uniform, that had been talking to Dean, spoke up from behind Crowley.  
“The Mona Lisa.” He countered.  
“The real Mona Lisa, the one where she’s topless.”  
“Vatican City!”  
“Alaska!” The Demon and Angel bid against one another but Boe cringed at Crowley’s latest offer.  
“Palin and a bridge to nowhere? No thanks.”  
“Alright, the Moon!” Crowley proclaimed.  
“You’re bidding the moon?” Dean asked in disbelief.  
“Claimed it for hell,” Crowley explained. “You think I guy named buzz makes it all the way to space without making a deal?”  
“I’m sorry Gentlemen but it seems our reserved price has not been met.” Boe disclosed to the bidders. “So to stimulate the bidding, we’re going to add an item to this lot.” The hunters looked at the suited man with confusion. What else could be added to the Word of God? “Kevin Tran, Prophet of the Lord.” Linda gasped in shock, but by the time she’d turned to her son he was already gone. Kevin appeared by the seated God plates, chained to a gate.  
“No!” Linda screamed. The hunters stood up, ready to fight for the life of Kevin Tran, but quickly were pushed back down to their seats. Without her magic, Y/N and the boys were helpless to the strength of Plutus’s guards.  
“Kevin Tran is the only person on earth who can read this tablet, making them the perfect matching set.” Boe went on to explain.  
“So out of your league.” Crowley sniggered from behind them.  
“So, do I hear a bid of…”  
“No stop!” Linda shouted. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I have a 401k! My house!” Plutus chuckled under his breath, amusingly still reading his paper.  
“Good effort, Mrs. Tran,” Boe said patronizingly. “But I’m afraid this is a little out of your price range.”

Linda stood shaking, her mind racing over every item she owned. Then she realized the most valuable thing she owned was already with her.  
“My Soul!”  
“Mom, Don’t!” Kevin screamed.  
“I bid my soul!” She yelled, ignoring her son's protests.  
“Are you sure? That’s a bold move.” Dean whispered to Linda.  
“If it’s souls your after. I can give you a million souls.” Crowley stood, slowly walking into the aisle to continue the battle for Kevin. Plutus finally put his paper down and leaned forward to address the crowd.  
“It’s not about the quantity, chief.” He said to Crowley. “This little lady’s soul is the most valuable thing she has. It’s everything. Are you willing to offer everything, Mr. Crowley.” Crowley looked around the room, annoyed by the smug face of Dean Winchester looking up at him.  
“Fine. You win.” He said bitterly. “I bid, My own Soul!” The room went quiet at the announcement, the words heavy in the air.  
“Wait,” Y/N thought out loud. “Does the King of Hell even have a soul?” She challenged.  
“No, he doesn’t” Plutus concluded with a laugh. “Congrats sweetheart.” He turned to Mrs. Tran. She had won the bid.

.

.

The room emptied, leaving the hunters and Mrs. Tran sitting on chairs and staring at one another.  
“losing my soul, is it going to hurt?” She asked, not really wanting to know the answer.  
“Probably,” Dean told her regrettably.  
“Will I die?”  
“No, you’ll just wish you were dead.” Y/N felt her heart sink at Sam’s words. For the first time since they’d been reunited, she had forgotten how mad she was at him and almost reached out a comforting hand. She knew he was reliving the days when he himself was left without a soul.The heavy silence fell over the room again. There were no words the hunters could say to comfort Mrs. Tran. Only that her son was now safe from the slavery of Crowley or any other monster or demon.

The door opened from behind them and Boe poked his head through.  
“It’s time.” They all stood, accept Linda who was having a hard time moving.  
“You okay?” Y/N asked her quietly.  
“Can I just have a moment?” She asked tearfully. They looked to Boe who rolled his eyes but agreed anyway. The hunters followed him out of the room, their distaste audible.  
“This sucks,” Sam grunted.  
“You kidding?” Dean countered. “We’re about to close the gates of hell forever. If you ask me, we’re getting off lightly.” Dean words set something alight in Y/N chest.  
“How can you say that? Linda’s about to lose her own soul. Since when were you a ‘the glass is half full’ kind of person?”  
“I’m not happy about it.” He argued defensively. “But, no ones died.” He shrugged.  
“Well if you ask me, the glass might be half full, but it’s full of piss!”

.

.

They stood in the room, holding all the auction items. After a few moments, Boe entered the room with Linda at his side.  
“Where’s the Kid?” Dean asked God. Plutus snapped his fingers and Kevin appeared, escorted by two of Plutus’s guards.  
“What are you going to do with her soul?” Y/N ordered her questions sinisterly.  
“Whatever I want,” Plutus smirked. “I might sell it. Or I might just tuck it away with all my other precious objects. Let them keep me warm at night.” He chuckled before reaching out a hand to Linda. “Whenever you’re ready.” Linda straightened her spine and nodded. She lifted her arm to take The God’s hand and stepped forward.  
“Wait,” Dean ordered. He reaches out and lifted Linda’s sleeve. In place of her no possession tattoo was bubbled and burnt skin. She had no protection from demons. They all looked to Linda for an explanation. She blinked and her eyes went red.  
“Hello, boys.” Crowley's voice fell from her lips.  
“Crowley.” Sam gasped in realization. Crowley. In Linda’s body smirked before stretching out his hands and sending all the hunters flying against the wall. Y/N felt her head smack against the concrete walls before her body splatting on the floor. She already felt weak and tired, but that blow was the last straw needed to send her into dark unconsciousness.

.

.

She was awoken by the loud bang of gunshots. She felt the rubble of the wall fall upon her in crumbled pieces of dust. Wiping the dirt from her face she suddenly felt stronger. Looking up she could see that whoever was shooting bullets in the air, had hit and broken one of the sigils on the wall. Y/N had no idea what the sigil said or why it breaking gave her a small ounce of strength back, but she was relieved. She was nowhere near her full strength, but something had returned to her. She knelt up off the ground, poking her head up in time to see Kevin trying to escape the room. Dean and Crowley were no longer there, only Kevin, Y/N, Sam, and Boe. He held up a gun, pointing it at Kevin’s now still body.  
“Don't!” Boe warned. Y/N closed her eyes, desperately searching for any source of power still awake inside her. With a pained head and blurred vision, she felt the warm glow in her hands. She inhaled deeply.  
“Deleo!” She screamed, throwing her energy towards Boe. Boe’s body vibrated in a ball of light before he fell to the ground dead. Kevin looked down at the ground for just a second and then ran in search of his mother.

Y/N smiled with relief to herself and then felt her body go numb. She saw inky blotches in her vision and the muffled sound of Sam calling her name. He caught her just before her body fell and slammed itself on the floor.  
“Y/N?” His tight arms around her body gently lowered her and settled her back against the wall. He knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands to force her attention on him.  
“I’m fine.” She protested weakly.

.

.

In the main room, Dean had finally caught up with Crowley. The stolen tablet fell from his hands and slid across the floor. Dean pushed in against a pillar, forcing him still and fighting to cut a knife through his neck. Crowley fought back fiercely in Linda’s body.  
“Mom!” Dean turned to see Kevin run into the room, desperately to reach his mother. Crowley used this moment of weakness to overpower Dean and push him away and across the room. He exorcised himself from Linda’s body in red smoke and returned to his own in the next room.

The door opened, Crowley in his true form walking out and brushing the dust off of his coat.  
“Well, that was exciting.” He reached down and picked up the forgotten tablet. “Good luck closing the gates of hell, without this.”

.

.

They all finally rejoined in the main room. Linda sat upright on the floor, lost in her own traumatized mind and still yet to speak. Kevin sat in front of her, cradling her hands and waiting for her to speak.  
“Has she said anything?” Sam asked. Kevin shook his head.  
“Listen, kid, about your mum. It’s hell, I know. But she seems tough. She’ll pull it together.” Dean offered some words of comfort but in return got a vengeful stare from Kevin.  
“You tried to kill her.” He said darkly.  
“Listen, in this life…”  
“Shut up! Enough of your crappy speeches! I just want to talk to my mum, alone.”  
“We’ll give you a minute.” Y/N said quietly, ushering the boys out of the room and closing the door.

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” Sam said sternly.  
“What happened?” Dean asked, unsure of the sudden increase of hostility between the two.  
“nothing happened."  
“Somehow Y/n threw some magic crap at Boe and then passed out. And it’s not the first time!”  
“Is that true?” Dean asked Y/N. She just scoffed to herself, crossing her arms and looking away.  
“Y/N tell us what’s going on?” Sam roared.  
“No.” She said plainly.  
“Why not? There was a time when you trusted us.” Sam counted. Y/N’s eyes darted to Sam wide and with anger.  
“Yeah, there was! I wonder what happened?” Sam went quiet with guilt at her angry screaming. “You don’t need to know! All you need to know is I just stopped Kevin from getting killed! And whilst we’re talking about killing,” Y/N turned her face to Dean. “Were you seriously going to kill Linda?” Dean looked back, unhappy the interrogation had turned onto him, but answered plainly and honestly.  
“Yeah, I was. Wish I had.” The other hunters looked at him sadly.  
“Dean,” Sam went to try and convince him otherwise.  
“It was Crowley, Sam. No matter what meat suit he’s in, I should have knifed him! Yeah, it would have sucked but what’s one more nightmare right?” The other two didn’t know how to answer, they just stood quietly. In a way Dean was right, but how could they think that. Linda was a person. And didn’t deserve to meet her end in that way. “It seems a little quiet in there to you?” Dean asked, noticing the lack of talking in the other room.

They walked back into the room where they left Kevin and his mother and found it empty.  
“Kevin?” Sam asked. “Kevin!” He yelled when he realized what had happened.  
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean cried.  
“Guys look.” Y/N pick up a folded piece of paper on the chair Linda had been sitting on.  
“What does it say?” Sam asked.  
“That they bolted, we shouldn’t come looking and since Crowley has the tablet we don’t need him anymore.” She repeated.  
“But Crowley still does.”


	3. Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a string of odd murders, the trio ends up following leads that take them to a dead famous athlete who was more than he seemed. Y/N and Sam are still butting heads, both stubborn and one hurt a lot more than the other. But some news Sam has the trio might just shock Y/N into pulling her punches.

It had been a week of following leads that only lead to dead-ends. Kevin was in the wind and the hunters had no idea where to look next. Y/N and Dean followed without argument when Sam took them to the farmers market. Dean hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, all he heard was the word ‘food’ and was happy to go anywhere.

Y/N stood at the end of a fruit stall, listening to Dean’s ramblings and trying not to stare as Sam took a large bite of an apple. Since her little black out in the warehouse, he’d been extra annoying. She could feel him watching and inspecting her as she went about day to day life, waiting for her to slip up and reveal another piece of her secret. But she’d been careful. Shed managed to get through the entire week without using any magic or powers. Lights were turned on manually and there had been no bad guys to throw against the wall. She hadn’t even had to use her powers to pull Dean out of a trance or flashback. There seemed to have been a silent agreement between the three hunters. If no one saw Y/N using her magic, then no now would bring it up or question where her sudden powers had come from. It didn’t sit right with Sam. It aggravated him! This amazing and enormous development in Y/N was going unspoken, why? What was she hiding? But he didn’t dare bring it up again.

  
_“You used to trust me.”  
“Yeah, I did! I wonder what happened?”_

Her words had stung, but he couldn’t argue against them. When he got in that car and drove off without Y/N, he knew there was no going back for them. The pain sat heavily in his stomach and he hated himself for it. For leaving his friend and his brother behind. But the pain was manageable when he sat and existed with Amelia. They were both running from a painful past. Both desperate for a happier future, they put their pain in a box and refused to deal with it. But they were doing that together at least.

Y/N’s anger and pain still sat heavily in her chest, but there would be moments when she forgot how much she was hurting. The three of them would sit around a table, eating crappy take out food, and looking into a lead. Dean would say something stupid, Y/N would match his sarcasm with a witty comment and make Sam laugh. Just as it used to be. She turned to smile at him, reach out to hold his hand, or even brush her lips against his. But the second she saw the iris of his eyes, she saw his longing for someone else. And then she remembered. He’d left her and moved on. And it was only a matter of time before he moved on again. She had so much bitterness and aching inside her, but that didn’t stop the tingle in her lower stomach when she watched Sam’s large hands grip the apple and bite his teeth into it. Damn, she hated how she still wanted him.

“Wow! Guy goes to Purgatory for a year, all hell breaks loose!” Dean's rambles finally cut through Y/N’s hazy thoughts. “Check this out: Jogger in Minneapolis get’s his heart ripped it!’ Dean read from his phone with an unusual amount of enthusiasm for a murder report.  
“I’m guessing literally?” Sam asked with a mouth full of apple. Only Dean would be excited by the phrase ‘heart ripped out’ if it wasn’t a metaphor.  
“Only way that interests me.” He said cheekily. “And then, there’s another article from 6 months ago. The same thing happens, also in Minneapolis. What does that tell us?”

“Don’t go to Minneapolis.” Y/N replied sarcastically.  
“Two hearts ganked.” Dean continued, ignoring Y/N’s unhelpful comment. “6 months apart, same place. It’s got to be a ritual. Right?” Dean looked up from his phone and at Y/N with wide excited eyes. Anyone would think he was a child asking his mom that the footprints in the snow had to be from Santa Clause.  
“I guess. Certainly sounds like it.” She shrugged. Dean practically jumped on the spot.  
“Right then! It’s a case! Let’s ride.”  
“We’re on a case, Dean,” Sam interjected. It seemed he was taking the role of a drunk uncle who tells the little boy there’s no way Santa could be real. “Kevin and the Demon tablet need to be found.”  
“We just spent a week chasing leads to try and lock Kevin down. And look at us! We’re…” Dean finally stopped to look around and study his surroundings. “Where the hell are we?”  
“Farmer's market,” Sam announced slowly. “Organic.” He explained patronizingly. Dean looked over at Y/N, seeing if she could translate the crap that was coming out from Sam’s mouth. She simply raised her eyebrows. In the past, she would be smiling and lecturing Dean about how vegetables were good for him, but that would mean making an alliance with Sam. She wasn’t quite ready for that yet. “What?” Sam asked defensively, watching the interaction between the two in front of him. “I took a year off. I took the time to enjoy the good things.” Y/N bit her tongue, wanting to point out that whilst he was doing that, Dean was fighting for his life and she was alone in a crappy apartment trying to find him. Dean took that burden from her.  
“While avoiding what we actually do?” He poked. Sam felt the annoyance of the repeated note stabbed in his side.  
“Why are you taking this out on me. Y/N was the one working this year. She didn’t spot it.” Y/N’s face turned red. He really had the nerve to turn this on her, when he was the one hiding from his responsibilities!  
“I was a bit busy trying to find your bother whilst picking up for two missing hunters. One of which who drove off and left me in the middle of nowhere and wouldn’t answer my calls.”  
“Wow, does it really make you feel better every time you bring it up?” He argued back.  
“You pretentious mother f…”  
“Whoah! Okay!” Dean stood in-between the two. As much as he loved a good rumble, now probably wasn’t the best time for it. “Let’s calm down. Look I get it, you took a year off to do yoga and play the lute or whatever. But I’m back. We’re back.” He gestured between him and Y/N. “Which means we walk and kill monsters at the same time. We’ll find Kevin. But does that mean inthe meantime we ignore stuff like this, so innocent people die?”  
“Just so you can shop for produce.” Y/N muttered under her breath. Sam glared at her angrily but eventually turned back to his brother. It looks like they were on a hunt.

* * *

The photos were slammed onto the table before them. In laminated color and ink, they saw the jogger laying on his stomach in wet grass. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head, his skin was pale and there was a gaping red hole where his heart should have been.

“Here’s what’s odd about this guy,” the older detective sighed heavily as he spoke to the three hunters. Y/N could see by his eyes right away, he didn’t appreciate being outranked by anyone younger than him. She could also tell by the quick up and down glance he gave her, he was the old fashioned type. “The vic wasn’t chopped or cut into two, no incision. But his heart was ripped out of him like a peach-pit.”  
“Was he robbed?” Sam asked, picking up to study one of the photographs.  
“Phone and watch, money? All still on him.”  
“What about enemies?” Dean asked.  
“He was in town for a conference. No local connections.”  
“You guys had another one of these about six months ago?” Y/N asked with a low toned voice.  
“Yeah,” the detective said slowly, not appreciating the case being brought up. “We hit a brick wall. There was nothing to go on. But maybe we got lucky here.” The detective moved away from the table and headed over to a wheeled T.V. He picked up a remote and pressed play. “Park surveillance,” he explained. “Maybe the cameras picked up something.”

The video replayed. It was the night in the park and the jogger was caught on camera running his track. A larger and chubbier man ran behind him, picking up the pace and overtaking the much younger and fitter man.  
“That chubby guy the last person to see him alive?”  
“Him and the killer. Name’s Paul Haze. We pulled him in for questioning.”  
“So what makes you think he’s clean?” Sam asked with an unconvinced eyebrow.  
“Well, so far we’ve got no reason not to. I mean he said he briefly saw the victim, he ran on ahead and that was it.”  
“What you mean he didn’t fall to his knees and confess to gutting the guy just because you asked?” Y/N pointed sneeringly, still riled up from her argument with Sam.  
“No, I mean we did a thorough check on the guy and there’s not even a parking ticket on the guy. Forgive me if I didn’t take him out back and shoot him!” The detective bit back. Y/N was about to step forward with another unprofessional but bitter comment when Sam coughed and interrupted.  
“Okay, so any idea where we can find this guy?”

* * *

Paul Haze’s house stank of spinach and any other produce that was used to aid bowel movements. Y/N and Dean fought back the comment as they searched the guy’s apartment. Sam kept him occupied in the kitchen, questioning him politely. Paul gave Y/N and Dean an odd glance when they both asked to use the bathroom. But he clearly wasn’t a suspicious or overly smart man when Y/N just waved his concern off.  
“Long car rides together. Practically have our insides in sync.” She excused them.

They rummaged around his bedroom, looking in corners and wardrobes for anything out of the ordinary.  
“So…” Dean began, feigning a casual atmosphere.  
“So?” Y/N prompted him, looking through Paul’s desk draws.  
“You’re clearly still upset.” Y/N met Dean’s eyes and rolled her eyes in the usual fashion.  
“I’m fine.” She said flatly before moving into Paul’s en-suite.  
“Yeah, you’re fine.” Dean sang sarcastically. “Fighting with Sam every ten minutes, can’t say a nice word to him, be alone with him even. Oh, and are we gonna talk about your little blackout after playing Hocus Pocus?” his fingers motioned to Y/N’s hands which she put on her hips in the form of fists. He smiled at her, trying to use his charm to convince her into communication.  
“No, we’re not going to talk about it.” She smiled falsely. “Looks like this place is clean. Think it could be some weird rouge Werewolf?” She asked changing the subject.  
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Dean replied, not having enough spare energy to fight her on the topic of conversation they should really be talking about.

.

.

Sam was in the kitchen, watching as Paul made a smoothie that was a color combination of both beige and pea-green.  
“It tastes like crap but it keeps you young,” Paul whined after his first taste. The other hunters came back into the room with a smile.  
“Now Paul, we couldn’t help but notice the jogger you outraced was a good lot younger than you.”  
“Yeah, less…” Dean trailed off looking for the polite word.  
“Full figured?” Paul offered with a smile. “You should have seen me before. Yeah, hugging a desk all day and watching TV all night whilst eating fried everything! It was killing me! I had a health scare about a year ago.”  
“We’re sorry to hear that.” Y/N offered kindly.  
“Don’t be! It changed my life. I started taking care of myself.”  
“Now your body’s a temple, huh?” Dean asked, only part mockingly.  
“Where I worship every day,” Paul replied, taking another gulp from his drink and cringing in disgust. 

* * *

They left Pauls and regrouped at a nearby cafe. Sitting on a bench, Dean continued to search for anything similar on his laptop whilst Y/N went over the case report again.  
“What you find at Paul’s?” Sam asked, sitting down to join them.  
“Nothing Satanic or out of the ordinary.” Y/N told him.  
“There's another one!” Dean cried out before Sam could reply.  
“What, murder?” Sam asked. He leaned closer, slightly over Y/N to see Dean’s screen. Y/N held her breath. She hadn’t been this close to Sam for a year, she hadn’t been close enough to smell his scent. Shit, it was still intoxicating.  
“And a ‘do it yourself bi-pass.’ Two days after this one.”  
“What part of Minneapolis?” Y/N managed to croak out.  
“The Iowa part, Ames.” Dean turned to the other two.  
“Well Paul was here being questioned, it couldn’t have been him.”  
“No, this guy was a cop,” Dean explained. “This is exactly what happened six months ago. Minneapolis then Ames.Guess you missed that one.” He sent a pointed look over Y/N’s shoulder to his younger brother, who shot back another unamused stare. “Just saying.”

* * *

“Arthur Swanson. A real top-shelf officer. Twenty years on the force.” After traveling to Ames, the hunters now sat in front of another police officer, giving them a quick profile on Arthur, the murder. “He’d ordered a pizza which the vic delivered. The vic didn’t make his next drop-off. His body was found on the walk in front of Swanson’s”  
“And he wasn’t wearing a heart?” Dean questioned.  
“No, heartless.” They all took a quick moment, imagining the scene. The hunters took less time to adjust before asking their next questions.  
“What about Swanson?” Y/N asked. “You arrested him?”  
“He was crying on the porch covered in blood. He’d been in court all week, testifying… Excuse me.” His phone rang which he then picked up. The hunters turned to another in a low whisper.  
“Couldn’t have been him in Minneapolis,” Sam repeated to them.  
“I hate it when this happens.” Dean quipped before noting the officer return to the conversation. “So, this Arthur guy, what does he have to say?”  
“Nothing helpful.”

.

.

They were taken to an interrogation room where Arthur was sitting on a seat. His hands were clenched together, eyes wide and rocking back and forth. He mumbled something under his breath repeatedly, never stopping or changing his words. Whatever he was saying, it wasn’t in English. None of the hunters could figure out a translation.  
“So you getting his statement?” Dean asked sarcastically, standing behind a seated Y/N and Sam. Y/N was actively keeping an eye on Dean. This time his path between him and the suspect was blocked by Y/N and Sam. She was still worried these kinds of interrogation rooms were another trigger for his memories of Purgatory.  
“Yeah, kind of,” Sam muttered, holding out the recording device. “Probably not.”  
“Too bad we all dropped out of lunatic 101.” Dean joked. “You recognize what he’s saying?” Y/N shook her head.  
“Whatever language he’s speaking, it’s not one I’ve ever used or heard before.”  
“Assuming it’s not just lunatic babble,” Dean smirked.  
“Whatever it is, sounds like he’s repeating it.” Sam observed.  
“Look at his eyes,” Dean said. The other hunters looked and saw how both pupils were different colors. “Hey Arthur, did you do this alone?” Dean asked, wandering over to the table. Y/N’s hand flexed out of instinct.  
“Arthur, did some invisible voice tell you you had to kill?” Sam asked again when the only response they got was Arthur's repeated mumbling. Arthur suddenly slammed his hands on the table and repeated his words louder.  
“Well now you’ve pissed him off,” Dean mumbled. “Hey Art, can I call you Art? I’m gonna sprinkle your arm with Holy water.” He tapped Y/N’s shoulder, she reached into her inner pocket and passed him her vile of Holy water. “And it’s gonna steam and burn if you’re possessed by a demon.” Dean poured the water onto the mumbling Arthur and watched as no reaction came from his skin.  
“Not possessed.” Y/N concluded.  
“Arthur! You want to tell us why you did this?” Dean shouted loudly. Arthur just repeated his foreign phrase over again and again.

* * *

In another motel room, Dean and Sam relaxed their ties and settled into the night. Sam replayed the recording of Arthur’s voice again.  
“You recognize any of the words?” Sam asked.  
“If they even are words,” Dean argued. “Sounds like babble to me. Wait a second…”  
“What?” Dean leaped into his pocket, pulling out his phone and sitting across from his brother.  
“I downloaded a translation app! Here, play it.” Sam played his recording for the app and waited for his brother to read out the results. “And babble wins! Language unknown.”

Before Dean could celebrate, Y/N burst into the room. “Hey! Where’s the food?”  
“We’ve got bigger problems than your stomach.” She told them. “I just got a call.”

.

.

“So what are we looking at here? Some sort oh psychotic break?” Dean asked the young female doctor who stood beside him and Y/N. They looked through a window into Arthur’s hospital room. Late in the night, he’d managed to gage his own eye out, leaving a large pool of blood.  
“Defiantly. He was very thorough. Severed the optic nerve. He was determined to remove the eye.” The Doctor told them certainly.  
“What with? He was locked up. Surely they took any weapons or knives off of him?” Y/N asked

“He doesn’t look strong enough but he pulled off part of the bed frame and used a piece as a knife.” Y/N and Dean both cringed, picturing the scene in their minds.  
“I noticed he had two different colored eyes,” Dean questioned.  
“Apparently he was in an accident, the eye was shattered. The sight was saved with a transplant.” The doctor informed them.  
“When was this?” Y/N asked.  
“A year ago, almost to the day. And interestingly, it was the transplanted eye he tried to cut out.”  
“Any way of tracing who donated the transplant?”

.

.

Now that the sunlight had finally arrived, Sam was typing away on his laptop when the other hunters returned with coffee.  
“Hey,” Sam greeted. “So Arthur had an eye transplant about a year ago right? Well, I remember Paul Haze saying something about a health scare that changed his life. So I pulled up his medical files and guess who also had a transplant within the last year?”  
“Paul Haze?” Y/N guessed, taking a large sip from her coffee. She hadn’t gotten any sleep, since Arthur’s accident interrupted her plans for dinner and passing out in front of the television before the boys could interrogate her any further.  
“I gave it away didn’t I?” Sam joked.  
“Right, so we’ve got two suspects, two identical murders in two different cities that both had organ transplants within a year ago.” Dean replayed the information.  
“Yeah! Also,”  
“Love when there’s an also.”  
“I got to thinking about all that stuff Arthur Swanson was speaking about. Maybe your translation app called it ‘language unknown’ because it’s a dead language.”  
“You bought an app?” Y/N asked Dean. He nodded smugly.  
“So I emailed an audio file of Arthur’s mumbling to Doctor Morrison.”  
“Who?” Dean asked.  
“The weird professor who helped us with the Amazons?” Y/N clarified. Sam nodded.  
“Okay, well let’s get our asses on the road!” Dean exclaimed.  
“Headed where exactly?” Y/N questioned.  
“If we’re in a repeat of the murders that happened a year ago, after Minneapolis and Ames, the next “heart attack” is in Colorado.”

* * *

They piled into the Impala and drove into the night. The rain was pouring gently from the sky but it did nothing to dampen Dean’s mood.  
“Hunt’s coming together!” He cheered. “You, me, and Y/N make three. It’s all good.” Y/N chuckled as she glanced up from her phone and looked at Dean’s reflection. No matter how old he got, or how many horrible murders he’d witnessed, there was always a small spark of childlike wonder alive in him. Sam however was looking dead straight ahead and was lost to this current world. Y/N and Dean both looked expectedly at him, waiting for a response, but all they got was a dead silence. “Hey,” Dean called, pulling Sam out of his own mind.  
“What?”  
“What you thinking about? Organic tomatoes?”  
“I’m not thinking about anything.” Sam lied, before turning his sights back on the road in front of him. Dean and Y/N shared a quick glance at one another through the mirror, both noting the absence of Sam’s attention.  
“I don’t know about you two, but this past year has given me a new perspective.” Dean prompted, hoping to pull something out of Sam. Y/N sat in the back and stayed quiet. She didn’t particularly like the new perspective this last year had given her.  
“I hear you, believe me,” Sam said quietly. Y/N could hear in his tone that his appreciation for the last year was not the same as Dean. He’d changed his view on the life he led and didn’t particularly enjoy being pulled back into what was.  
“I am seeing clearly. I am at my best when I’m right here, driving down crazy street next to you and with Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the back.” Y/N forced a small smile at Dean’s affection. But it was difficult when she could feel Sam’s heavy heart from where she was sitting.  
“Or, maybe you don’t need me.” Sam offered an alternative. Dean's optimistic and cheerful tone was crumbled up just like the confusion on his face. “Maybe you’re at your best hacking and slicing your way through the worlds worst alone.” Y/N tried not to take it personally that Sam had already dismissed her from this scenario. Tried, and failed. “Not having to explain yourself to anybody.” Dean looked over to his right, a tight expression on his face.  
“Yeah, that makes sense. Especially since I have so many other brothers I can talk to about this stuff, no offense Y/N.” He added for good measure.  
“I”m not saying I’m bailing, just make way for the thought that maybe we want different things,” Sam argued. “I want my time to count for something.”  
“So what we do doesn’t count?”

The conversation was interrupted by Dean’s phone going off in his pocket. As he answers and spoke to whoever was on the other end, Sam turned to look in the back seat. Y/N was forcing her eyes away from him, looking out the window and pretending to be unfazed by his words. He sighed heavily when he couldn’t gage any form of reaction from her. At least when she was shouting at him he knew how she felt.

Dean hung up the phone, thanking the other end politely. “Well, this is going to send your axons!” Dean smirked at his brother. “She said that both Paul Haze’s Kidney and Arthur Swanson’s eye came from… you ready for this? Brick Holmes!”  
“Who’s Brick Holmes?” Y/N asked, pushing herself back into the conversation when she saw the excitement in both the boy’s faces.  
“The all-pro quarterback?” Sam laughed.  
“Guy played at the top of his game for like a million years didn’t he?” Dean smiled.  
“He bought it in a car crash last year. Nose dived off a bridge or something? Must have signed a donor card?”  
“How many organs did he donate?” Y/N sat forward, not starstruck by the name at all, and purely focused on the case.  
“Including our two suspects, eight,” Dean informed her.  
“And one of them’s in Bolder right?”  
“Wrong!” Dean sang. “Good news is Brick lived just outside Bolder.”  
“But he’s dead?” Y/n continued to ask questions.  
“It’s the only lead we got,” Dean told her. “So we are going to Bolder.”

* * *

They arrived once the sun was up and the day has well and truly arisen. The Impala looked surprisingly at home by the large and oversized house. Y/N noted how it looked like a rich person’s vintage collectible. The hunters flashed their usual routine of investigators and sat in front of Brick Holme’s mother, Elenor. She was a tidy and a well-presented woman with short grey hair and dosed in expensive but modest perfume. She had a bright emerald green ring on her finger, hands gently resting in her lap.  
“We’d just like to say, we’re very sorry for your loss Mrs. Holmes.” Dean offered kindly. Elenor turned her pricing blue eyes, filled with years and wisdom to look at Dean and thanked him.  
“Thank you.”  
“You know, Brick Holmes was my idol back in high school.” Sam gushed. “Amazing career. 18 pro seasons 17 championships, four super-bowls, never slowed down a day. Dean and Y/N both smirked mockingly at Sam saved up fanboy knowledge but worked hard to hide it.  
“Well, Brick lived for competition,” Elenor said proudly. “And athletic perfection. I don’t think it occurred to his fans that he was human just like the rest of us.”

“Did you know your son was an organ donor?” Y/N asked, trying to speak gently and sympathetically.  
“Does this make it a matter for the FBI?” Elenor asked confused.  
“We’re mostly here to dot some I’s on a different matter.” Y/N explained. Elenor nodded and went on talking.  
“There was a public awareness thing a few years ago. A lot of star athletes signed on. I’m sure Brick didn’t think twice about it, since he never thought he was going to die.” She laughed fondly.  
“A lot of jocks are like that I guess.” Dean smiled. “But you know, I can’t help but wonder what happened that night on the bridge.” Dean’s words quickly turned the fond smile on Elenor’s face to a sad one. “It was light traffic, no alcohol involved, good weather, no skid marks. Big-time athlete, reflexes like a cat. How is it he just drives off the side of a bridge.”Elenor no longer took kindly to Dean’s words and her face went stale.  
“When things happen, that aren’t supposed to happen. They’re called accidents I believe.” Eleanor’s face was strong and stern, having Y/N worried they were about to get kicked out. She moved on the questioning.  
“Clearly everyone knows about his amazing career, but no one knows much about his personal life. Was he ever married?”  
“Just to the game. He gave it everything he had. It’s a difficult life.” Elenor insisted.  
“Did you notice any changed in Brick before he died?” Dean continued to probe with questions. “Anyone, anything new in his life?”  
“No, I don’t think so.”  
“No new interests? Fly fishing, stamp collecting, the occult?” Y/N fought away the facepalm she was dying to have. Subtle as ever was Dean.  
“The Occult?” Elenor asked shocked.  
“As an example.” Y/N added quickly before eyeing Dean wildly.  
“No,” Elenor laughed awkwardly. “Everything was just as it had been. Now I’m sorry but I afraid my time is up.” The hunters copied Elenor as she stood up from her seat. “The university is naming a new athletic building after Brick. I can’t be late.” She smiled politely whilst ushering them out.  
“Of course, just one more question…” Sam began.  
“There is always more question in life, isn’t there?” Elenor asked with humour but impatient laugh. “That’s what I find.” She opened the door and the hunters left the building.

“She didn’t want to give much away did she?” Y/N mumbled as they headed back to the car.  
“Son of a bitch! It’s happened!” Dean was looking down at his phone when he saw the news report of yet again, another murder resulting in a missing heart.  
“Don’t tell me someone had their heart ripped out in Bolder?” Sam asked bitterly.  
“Alright then, I won’t tell you.” Dean quipped before ducking into the car.

* * *

Back at another motel room, the hunter changed out of their FBI suits and comfortably lounged on different areas of the room. It all felt out of place. Dean was sitting at the table on the laptop, Y/N was lounging on the sofa, flipping through case files and books, and Sam was pacing the floor whilst on the phone.  
“Alright Professor Morrison, that about does it. The FBI thanks you… yes, I am definitely looking into adding you as a technical advisor… yeah it comes with a medical plan. goodbye.”  
“Come through?” Dean asked once Sam shut off the phone.  
“Yeah, he did. Alright, here’s what crazy Arthur Swanson was babbling over and over.” Sam sat down across from dead with his notepad and pen in hand. “First it is a dead language, ancient Mion.”

“Doesn't get much deader than that,” Dean grunted.  
“What Arthur was saying was: the divine God Kukow is born.”  
“Kukow? The god of maze?” Y/N’s head lifted from the files she had on her lap.  
“err… yeah,” Sam replied, slightly surprised by Y/N’s knowledge.  
“Yeah, he was supposed to be the most powerful god since maze was the most important thing to the Mions… well that and killing people.”  
“So that’s what we’re looking for? An ancient thousand-year-old god of corn?” Dead asked tiredly.  
“I guess.” Sam shrugged.  
“Well whatever it is, we better cap it quick. Or someone in Phoenix is next to get their heart yanked.” Dean told them. Looking back down at the laptop.  
“Someone in Phoenix got a piece of Brick?” Sam asked.  
“Yeah I got a name, I emailed the cops. Just heard back from them, haven't seen him in days.” The other hunters sighed at the quick dismissal of a possible breakthrough. “Oh, and I got another email for you. From the University. Answering questions about admissions.” Sam’s eyes went wide as he’d been caught. Y/N looked up again at the brothers, staring at Sam in shock.  
“Just something I’m looking into. Exploring my options.” He explained, eyes rapidly moving from Y/N, to Dean to the table.  
“You’re seriously talking about hanging it up?” Dean asked with amused bitterness in his voice.  
“I’m not talking about anything Dean, I’m just looking at options.” Sam insisted. “So, what should we go to Phoenix and chase our tails until this guy shows his face.” He asked, swiftly changing the subject.  
“No,” Dean answered, standing up to his feet. “Brick Holmes is the way into this. Elenor Holmes was certain on not giving us a thing.” He started walking out the room towards the bathroom, turning his head last minute towards Y/N and Sam. “Nice job at changing the subject though. Almost good as Hermione Granger over there the other day.” Sam followed Dean’s pointed finger, his eyes falling on Y/N staring up with wide dumbfounded eyes.

* * *

Once night had fallen, they parked the Impala out of sight and broke into Elenor’s house. With their flashlights in hand, they began climbing the large grand staircase.  
“Right, the naming ceremony ends at ten. We gotta be in and out.” Dean ordered his small team.  
“Master bedroom?” Sam suggested.

They entered the largest bedroom in the house and got to work.  
“Closets,” Dean observed. Sam took the closet furthest away from the door, whilst Y/N and Dean studied the closest one. They flicked on the indoor light and scanned through the clothes.  
“It’s Brick’s closet.” Y/N called gently to the boys. “Looks like this stuff hasn’t been touched in a year.” She mumbled, fingering through hanged up shirts and folded jumpers.  
“Man, what this stuff would go for on eBay.” Dean laughed, opening up draws and riffling through. He lifted out two bottles of hair bleach and chuckled loudly.  
“Hey, Sammy! Would it totally crush you to know your boy Brick wasn’t a natural blonde?” Y/N huffed loudly, taking the bottles from Dean.  
“Would you focus?” She wined, shoving the bottles back into the draw. Dean pouted sarcastically before returning to his job.  
“Guys, this is really weird!” They heard Sam call from the other closet.  
“What you got?” Dean asked excitedly. He always did love weird.  
“I don’t know, is this Elenor’s closet?” Sam was studying the other closet, seeing the large collection of female designed clothing and accessories.  
“Why would his mother’s closet be in here? You sure?” Dean asked, continuing to search alongside Y/N.  
“Check this out.” They followed Sam's instructions, poking their heads out of the closet to see him standing with the outfit Elenor was wearing earlier that day.  
“Maybe she moved into his room after he died.” Y/N shrugged.  
“Or…” Dean nudged Y/N, looking over towards the bed with a perverted smile on his face. Y/N and Sam both followed his eyes and quickly caught up with his train of thought. Y/N groaned loudly, whacking Dean’s shoulder.  
“Don’t be disgusting!”  
“Thanks, Dean. Now that image is permanently etched into my retinas.” Sam complained, returning to the closet and hanging the outfit back up. Dean shrugged and followed Y/N as they continued to snoop through Brick’s things. As Y/N was running her hands through draws, Dean stepped to the back of the closet and pushed aside coats hanging up on a rod. There was a small handle on the wall. A secret door?  
“That’s what I’m talking about.” He smirked.

Y/N followed him as he pushed open the door into the darker and much colder room. Hearing the movement in the other room. Sam came to join them. Y/N flicked on a switch and they could finally see the contents of the room. It was filled with sporting equipment and memorabilia. From racing to baseball, football to soccer. Anything and everything anyone could want in a vintage sporting collection were in here.  
“Wow!” Sam gasped, pushing past the other hunters. “I knew he had to have something like this in his house.” He marveled.  
“That’s a lot of hardware,” Dean observed. “The football trophies I get, but there a lot of stuff here. Baseball, boxing, race car driving!”  
“He was a fan! Any athlete he respected them. I mean look at all the stuff he’s got…” the boys rambled on about all the different athletic equipment in the room. Fanboying over Sam’s hero and his collection. As they did, Y/N started looking in the hidden areas of the room. I’m a small bookcase she saw an old chest. Pulling it out and opening it, she saw a pile of letters.  
“You two want to put a hold on your crush and look what I found?” The boys stopped and turned to see what Y/N had in her hand. She placed the box on the table and started reading.

The box was filled with old love letters, all addressed to a girl named Betsy.  
“Elenor didn’t mention a Betsy,” Dean said suspiciously. Sam continued to search the box with Y/N, pulling one letter out in particular.  
“This one looks old. err… Dearest Betsy, third day of training, road work improving, working on my left jab. They say this kid Sugar Ray is going to be tough…”  
“Sugar Ray? As in Robinson? Didn’t he box in like the 40’s. Was it signed the same?”  
“Yeah: love me.” They read through every letter, each one from a different date throughout the decades. They seemed to be from the same guy traveling around the world training and competing in any and all sports. All began with Dearest Betsy, and all ended with Love me.  
  
“This one looks recent.” Y/n interrupted, holding it up and reading aloud. “Dearest Betsy, so tired of it all…” they all looked up with a sad heart. It was dated just before Brick’s ‘accident.’

* * *

They left the house and went back to their motel room. It wouldn’t be long until Elenor returned, so they packed up the letters and took note of the names on all the trophies. They made sure to leave the place as they found it. Once back in the Motel, Dean looked into the case further, looking for any more clues or links. Sam was busy on his computer, and Y/N laid on her bed, re-reading the old love notes and letters.  
“I ran the names on those old trophies,” Sam called to them. Dean took his chair to sit by his brother whilst Y/N stayed put on the bed. “Brick Holmes: Football player. Charlie Karnes: Race-car driver. Davey Samuelson: baseball player. Kelly Durran: Boxer. Four different guys right? Check this out.” Sam typed quickly, placing pictures of all four men side by side. There were slight differences, but it was the same man throughout the decades. Y/N stood from her bed and walked over to take a closer look. “Same dark eyes, same cheekbones, nose, mouth.”

“All these guys in their mid-twenties, going back seventy years are the same man?” Y/N asked in disbelief. Sam shrugged, not quite believing it himself.  
“Wow, for 95 years old, Brick Holmes could sure take a hit.” Dean chuffed.

They all huffed loudly, going back to their spots in the room to think about the information and how it helped them. There was a small voice in the back of Y/N’s voice, shouting something important but she just couldn’t quite hear it. There was something itching her mind, and it wasn’t until Sam started talking, that it came to her.  
“So if all those athletes were the same guy, how’d he pull it off? appear, then go away and come back with a new look?”  
“Shit! I got it!” Y/N scrambled to her feet, diving for her bag and pulling out an old-looking book she’d been reading earlier. Since the name Kukow entered the hunt, she started re-reading the stories and Lore she had about him.  
“What? What is it?” Sam asked. Both he and Dean watched with wide eyes as Y/N flipped through pages frantically.

“The Mions! Their athletes were like heroes! They were treated like kings and… ah here it is! The Mion athletes would make sacrifices to Kukow by killing a victim, taking out, and eating their heart!” She looked up with sparkling eyes at the breakthrough! “Kukow would grant their super-strong powers to help them defeat their opponents!”  
“Yeah, but they didn’t stay young forever.” Sam pointed out.  
“Maybe Brick made a deal?” Y/N suggested, not prepared to let her theory fail.  
“We’ve seen it before. People making deals with demons and gods.” Dean agreed. “Maybe he stayed young and strong as long as the sacrifices kept coming.” Y/N nodded eagerly at Dean’s words, pointing her hand to him to prove how right she was. “Wait… that explains Brick but what about all the other spare parts.” Y/N lowered her hand and smug face when Dean pointed out another hole in her theory.  
“Maybe the spell went along for the ride. Infected the people who got his organs.” Y/N fought back a smile when Sam finally jumped on her theory.  
“Exactly! Paul Haze had a health scare that changed his life remember? Maybe the spell compelled him to carry on the rituals?” Y/N was full of energy, bouncing her ideas of the boys and happy to have them return.  
“Like getting bit by a werewolf?” Dean asked. “Once you get infected you do what you gotta do, especially if you like the results!”  
“Right, except Arthur - a dedicated cop, couldn’t handle it and went nuts,” Sam concluded before sighing loudly and sadly. “Brick Holmes, heart eater. Who knew?” He said disappointed to hear one of his high school heroes was just another monster.  
“Sorry bud, the mighty fall hard.” Dean scoffed. Y/N bounced down on her bed, ready to do more research into Kukow to see how they could possibly stop the mess they were currently dealing with.  
“At least he wasn’t sleeping with his mother,” Sam muttered. Y/N and Dean both laughed.  
“Yeah, good sam. Find the silver lining.” Dean chuckled.  
“No, seriously look.” Sam turned his laptop around for the others to see. Dean moved closer and read the caption of the black and white photo.  
“Fighter Kelly Durran is congratulated on second round knock out by wife Betsy.” The photo showed the oldest of Brick’s personas, standing beside a young woman, the spitting image of a young Elenor.

“Dearest Betsy.”

* * *

The door swung open and Elenor looked at the hunters with a confused smile.  
“Hello Elenor,” Sam greeted.  
“Or would you rather we call you Betsy?” Dean asked darkly.

Elenor was quick to rush the hunters into her home and out of sight from any passers-by. She sat them down in her living room whilst she paced the floors erratically, trying to figure out if there was a way of feigning ignorant.  
“Elenor, please. Innocent people will die if you don’t tell us what you know.” Y/N stated with authority. She finally sat, her body heavily slumping in the chair.  
“Did you know about the murders last year?” Dean asked. Elenor looked up with worried but honest eyes.  
“No, I didn’t. I swear.” She shook her head. “I thought when Brick died, it would be over.” She sighed sadly.  
“Help us.” Y/N asked. “You loved Brick. Surely this isn’t what you want his legacy to be?” Y/N tried to appeal to the human lover inside Elenor. She was once a young girl called Betsy who fell in love with a strong man. That’s how he should be remembered in her eyes, not as the Mion or lead to so many deaths. Eleanor took in her words and looked at each hunter in the eye.  
“His Mion name was Inyo. He was a proud young athlete. Nearly a thousand years ago. He lived for sport and never wanted his days in the sun to end. So he made a margin with the god Kukow, the high priest.”  
“To stay young forever?” Dean guessed.  
“As long as the sacrifices kept coming. Twice a year, once for the planting, once for the harvest.”  
“When did you find out about this?” Sam asked.  
“Not until I began to age and Brick, Kelly as he was when I met him, did not.” She laughed at the oddness of the sentence that fell from her lips. “But Brick himself began to change. inside. He wasn’t just a warrior who’s only reason for living was combat. We deeply in love. So in love, I’m ashamed to say, when I found out about how my husband stayed young and strong, I chose to ignore it.” The words from Elenor’s lips were filled with sad lost love, laced with regret that it had led her to this path. She loved her husband, more than anything she could imagine. And that led to countless deaths.  
“You and Brick went underground from time to time to hide your secret right?” Sam clarified.  
“Every ten years or so he would reappear with a new look, a new name. And me? I was the wife and the woman in hiding. And when got into my forties, I became Brick’s mother; Elenor. I am so tired, you can’t imagine the burden of it all. I think even Brick was through. He could see the end of my days was ahead and he… he had lived centuries alone. But I don’t think he could bear the thought of life without me. That’s why he drove off that bridge.” Tears built up in her eyes as she looked down at the floor and retold her sad tale of love and loss. She looked up at the hunters to gauge their reaction. “You must think that I’m a monster.”  
“No,” Dean told her. “Just that you married one.” Elenor smiled sadly at the hunters, grateful for their understanding of her human nature.  
“But now,” Y/N began, trying to sound calm but clear to Elenor. “We have eight killers to deal with. Not just one.”  
“I don’t think so.” Elenor’s certainty caught them all off guard.  
“What?” Sam asked on behalf of them all. What had they missed? “Why not?”  
“Brick used to say, the heart was key. That was the focus of the sacrifice.”  
“Are you saying If we stop Brick’s beating heart, we can stop the whole thing?” Dean asked. Elenor nodded, still with tears in her eyes. Just at the thought of her husband's heart coming to its end once again.  
“Do you know where the person is, who has his heart?” Y/N asked. Elenor’s face went cold with fear as it dawned on her what she was about to disclose.

* * *

Brick’s heart had been given to a young woman named Randa Moreno. A stripper at a club called ‘The Bunny Hole.’ When Randa had realized what had happened to her body, that she had been gifted the heart of a Mion athlete with immense power, she became intoxicated with the power that came from sacrificing to Kukow. Desperate to protect her now vice, she moved to Boulder, to be closer to Elenor and Brick’s old home. She often would drop in on Elenor, intimidate and warn her of the consequences of giving up her secret. She used the memory of Elenor’s husband to hold her by a string, convincing her that this was how she could keep him alive. But enough was enough, and the deaths on her husband's behalf had to end. So she told the hunters where to find her.

The drive wasn’t far, and it wasn’t hard to spot the club.  
“Really?” Dean asked as he stopped the car. “Our King Daddy Killer is a stripper?”  
“We’re pretty sure this is going to work right?” Sam said pessimistically.  
“As long as Elenor knows what she’s talking about.” Y/N said, reaching into a bag and pulling out knives for everyone in the car.

They went around the back, looking for a side door to sneak in through. Dean picked the lock and let them into the dark and closed nightclub. They stalked up the steps to the locker room with flashlights in hand. Dean scanned his around the room, taking in the interior of pink lockers and adult posters.  
“Smell that?” He grinned. Sam and Y/N both looked at him with disgust.  
“You’re gross.” They said in unison. Dean shrugged with a smile and followed them to the main room. There were neon lights illuminating their steps. Tables cleaned and waiting for punters that would arrive later in the night, and a large stage with a light-up pole for the dancers to use.

The main lights turned on with a loud sound of a switch. There was a hum of a lightbulb and the tapping of footsteps. The hunters turned around and watched as a tall woman with short dark hair strutted towards them on the stage.  
“Elenor sent you right?” She asked in a dark sultry voice. “Figured she’d finally break and give me up.” She swayed in her loose vest top and tight-fitting jeans, reaching up to stroke the neon poll beside her. “This won’t end well for her of course.” She told them as she took another step forward. “Not that it’s going to end well for you.” She smirked. Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, brandishing it in the air. “Oh no, you don’t think we’re going to let you do that now do you?”  
“We?” Dean Asked. Randa’s dark eyes shifted from Sam to him and laughed. Sam and Y/N both followed Randa’s eyes to the eldest Winchester, and that was their mistake. They didn’t see the attack coming. A large plank of wood was smashed over Sam’s head with brute force. He tumbled over to the ground before being thrown across the room. Y/N looked up with shocked eyes and saw Paul Haze, the slightly chubby man from the beginning of their investigation, pick her up by the waist and throw her over to land besides Sam.

Dean lunged forward to defend his brother and friend, but another pair of hands gripped him tight and turned him around.  
“I’m the guy in Phoenix you were looking for.” Dean didn’t waste any time. He threw a punch, but it was caught by the man. He threw him down onto the stage with a large bang that was sure to leave several deep dark bruises. The man and Paul Haze, held down his arms, pinning him to the ground.  
“Wow, you guys are stronger than you look.” Dean groaned, fighting the slightly overweight men’s strength.  
“Comes with the package,” Haze smiled. “Plus I work out a lot.”

Y/N was slowly coming back into consciousness, just about able to see the sight of Randa kneel onto Dean and toy with him. She traced her hands along his chest before digging her nails into his chest, ready to rip out his heart.  
“Sam!” She whispered harshly, trying to nudge and wake him up. He mumbled something under his breath as he began to come through. “Sam come on wake up!” He was taking too long to awaken and be aware of what was happening. “God, please don’t ask any questions about this.” She begged him quietly before scrambling to her feet. “Hey!” She called over to the people holding her friend down. They turned their heads at the sound of her voice. “Inpello!” She screamed. With the movement of her hands, the other men were thrown in opposite directions, freeing Dean’s limbs from their prison.  
“What?” Randa yelled in confused anger. But she didn’t have much time to be confused. In that one second she let down her guard, Dean reached for the blade in his pocket and stabbed it straight into Randa’s heart. With a shocked gasped she stood away from him, backing away in pain and disbelief. Red mist clouded her as her life began to drain. The two men stiffened and died first before Randa screamed for the final time. She fell to her knees, eyes burnt out and her body dead.

Y/N ran to Dean’s side, checking for any signs of damage. Apart from being out of breath, he was okay. Y/N took a moment to turn back to see Sam, standing upright and looking at her with that look. He’d seen it all, and now they were going to have to talk about it. Especially since blood was currently trickling down her face from her nose.

* * *

They left Elenor’s after giving her the news that her nightmare was finally over. They were back in the car and driving through the rain. Sam sat in his seat, contemplating his life and the next step he wanted to take. Dean on the other hand was gleefully boning in his seat, happy with where he was.  
“Back in business!” He gleamed. Y/N shuffled in her seat, waiting for someone to bring up what happened. Sams's face was harsh and stern and serious. She was just counting the seconds until he demanded to know what was going on. “We got the win. Admit it, it feels good! I was thinking about what Randa said. About what it feels like to be a warrior. Man, I get it.” Y/N faked a smile as he looked back in his mirror.  
“I know you do,” Sam replied quietly. “I don’t.” He laughed. Dean and Y/N both looked over to Sam for an explanation. “Not anymore, maybe I never did.”  
“Sam come on don’t ruin our buzz. Right Y/N?” Y/n just nodded, pretending to be waving the same high from their win.  
“Listen, when this is over. When we close up shop with Kevin and the tablet. I’m done. I mean that.”  
“Really?” Y/N asked quietly.  
“No, he doesn’t”  
“Dean, the year I took off I had something that I never had. A normal life. I got to see what that felt like. I want that! I had that.” From the back seat of the car, Y/N sometimes felt like the boys couldn’t see her, that she wasn’t there. She knew it wasn’t in a nasty way. They’d spent years driving alone with one another, using these moments for the real talks they couldn’t have during hunts. But she’d never felt so forgotten when Sam talked about wanting a life as far away from the one Y/N lived. He wanted normal. She could never give him normal.  
“I know you feel like that now,” Dean said dismissively. He looked back in the mirror at Y/N’s sad face and loss of hope. “Give it some time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what did we all think? This chapter was a rollercoaster for me to write. I strangely loved writing y/n and sam arguing, but man it hurt to write as he told them he wanted out of life for good. What did you guys think? Before I go, a little update for you all. Next week won’t be an update of Bad Timing, but a one-shot. You can vote on what this fic is about over on my Patreon ;) The next chapter of Bad timing however is going to throw the alignment with the season off for a bit. ‘Bitten.’ Doesn’t really show the boys at all so it won’t have any effect on the story. So we’re skipping to Blood Brother.


	4. Blood Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dean takes a ‘personal day’ to uncover his own secret mission, Y/N and Sam are left alone for the first time in weeks, and memories begin to surface quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a little shorter for a number of reasons. 1) I wanted to get Sam and Y/N’s p.o.v in this chapter and most of this episode is from Dean’s p.o.v. So I used this opportunity to show you guys a little bit of what Y/N got up to during the year off, and to have some conversations between Sam and Y/N I’ve been dying to write! 2) my mental health kind plummeted during my little break and I just needed to warm back into writing. But I think you’ll still like this chapter. It’s very Sam and Y/N heavy and it thickens the plot nicely! And be warned, angst ahead!

They ran into the motel room. Sam was the first one to pick the lock and burst open the door. The lights were off and there were no signs of life. Dean and Y/N inspected all the exit routes whilst Sam checked out the bathroom. Y/N and Dean both groaned together, as yet again, another unsuccessful lead.  
“Well, that is twice, that he’s burnt us. Shame on you.” Dean dug when Sam came back into the room.  
“No, no, no! I’m the one who said he set us up!” Sam argued.  
“No, you said ‘I wonder if Kevin’s setting us up’ actually.” Y/N corrected him.  
“Then you started to go on with all that techno-babble! That was like two states ago!” Dean complained.

Sam resided into a chair as Dean turned to inspect the motel mini-fridge.  
“Well, whatever! Either way that’s another room billed to one of Kevin’s false IDs! And the motel ran his number today!” Sam continued to defend himself angrily. Y/N plonked herself down on one of the beds. They’d all been bickering about Kevin for days now. Every time they thought they had a lead on him, he’s slip right out of their fingers and each hunter took a turn in deciding whose fault it was.  
“So he had to actually have checked in today then?” Y/n asked. Sam replied with a stiff angry yes, fed up with all the blame being put on his shoulders.  
“Kid’s like Rain-man!” Dean marveled, pulling out beers from the fridge and standing up. “Like a crappy little credit card accounting. An old prodigy Rain-man.”  
“Well, he was in advance placement,” Sam replied sarcastically. Y/N tried not to laugh, thinking of the day they first met Kevin. He was this small scared high school student. He was the textbook description of a nerd. Now he was a prophet of the Lord, wanted by all.  
“Shut up.” Dean shot to his brother. “You too!” He said to Y/N, catching her sniggering.

Sipping at beer bottles they began to regroup. “When is that little idiot gonna stop running from us?” Dean wondered out loud.  
“I dunno Dean, it might have something to do with the fact you tried to kill his mother.” Sam spat out.  
“I was trying to kill Crowley!” Dean repeated angrily for the thousandth time. “Who happened to be wearing Kevin’s mother at the time.” Y/N and Sam both looked at Dean, confused how he couldn’t see the problem Kevin would have had with that scenario. “There’s a difference!” He yelled.  
“Apparently not to Kevin.” Y/N murmured behind her beer bottle.  
“Maybe because… oh yeah! It’s his mother!” Sam was interrupted by the ringing of Dean’s phone.  
“Hold that thought, oh you know what? Actually, don’t!” Y/N and Sam both shared an exasperated look as Dean took out his phone and answered it with a grumpy face. “Hello? Hello? Hang on, there aren't enough bars…” Y/N and Sam both watched Dean suspiciously as he left the room, talking to the stranger on the other end of the phone.

The door shut with a loud click, leaving the two alone in the motel room. They looked at each other awkwardly before Y/N spoke.  
“it’s not your fault Kevin got away,” she offered. “As you said, he was in advanced placement.” Sam smiled gratefully. Since he’d broken the news to Y/N and Dean of his plans to leave the hunting life for good, Y/N had been a lot less snippy with him. They weren’t the way they were, and saying they were friends would be quite a push. But at least she wasn’t shooting down every one of his ideas or punching him in the face whenever she caught him looking at her. Sam didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to complain.  
“Thanks,” he replied. He went to the window and saw Dean still chatting on the phone. Whoever he was talking to, it was taking all his concentration and could be a while. So Sam turned back to Y/N who was now unpacking her bag for the night. “So, I wanted to ask you…”  
“I’m still not ready to have that talk.” Y/N said bluntly, not looking up from her task. She may have made the choice to stop giving Sam such a hard time, but she wasn’t ready to divulge the secrets of her summer holiday. She felt the heavy silence in the room and Sams sudden stillness. Correcting herself for her harsh tone, she dropped the objects in her hand and looked up. “I really don’t want to talk about my year off.” She offered with tired eyes. Sam nodded and let it go, for now.

With the topic dropped, Y/n took her toiletry bag into the bathroom and started to pull out her toothbrush and hair products. Lining them up one by one, she took a moment to look at her reflection. She looked tired, drained. She sighed heavily, knowing the causes of the bags and veins poking through her skin. She was about to study herself further, checking out the areas of her body that had been giving up on her when she heard the door slam shut, and Sam’s voice echoes loudly through the rooms.  
“What do you mean, you’ve got to go?” He asked his brother. Y/N forgot about her sudden inspection and went back into the main room.  
“What’s going on?” She asked. Sam looked angry and Dean looked pissed.  
“What words are giving you trouble?” He asked his brother childishly.  
“We’re on a case! Remember Dean? The Winchester Holy Grail shut the gates of hell forever kind of case!” Sam was ranting and shouting, and still, no one had given Y/N a straight answer. She guessed Dean was heading somewhere alone, which was never a good sign.  
“In order to close the gates of hell, we need our prophet! Am I right? So step one: find Kevin Tran. Well, he ain’t here! But he wanted us here, which means we're probably as far away from him as he could possibly put us! So, Step two: Find Kevin Tran. Mind if I take the Toblerone?” Y/N watched with baffled eyes as Dean leaned down and looked into the mini-fridge. Sam was about to throw something at his brother by the look on his face so she stood between the two.  
“Okay!” She yelled. “Since you two seem to have forgotten I’m here again, let me tell you what I think is going on. Dean wants to go off solo for whatever reason and Sam’s not happy about it. My only questions are where and why are you going?” Dean stood up. Zipping his bag and readying his exit. He didn’t answer so Sam and Y/n followed him as he headed to the Impala. “Seriously?” She shouted angrily.  
“Look the rooms already paid for, the trails gone cold and I’ve got some personal crap I’ve got to take care of, that’s all.”  
“What does that mean? Personal?” Sam asked, beer still in hand and angrily waving it about.  
“Did you have a stroke? Vocabulary? Personal! As in my own, grown-up, personal, I don’t know crap!”  
“Damn it, Dean!”  
“What? Last time I checked, you took a year off from the job! I need a day.” Dean informed them.  
“I’d like to point out I didn’t take a year off.” Y/N added unhelpfully.  
“Yeah we know, but what were you doing for that year?” Dean asked, knowing the response he’d get. Y/N huffed and crossed her shoulders. “Exactly.” With both of his teammates bought to silence, he got into his car and drove away.

.

.

it had been a few hours since Dean had gone and Y/N was starting to get hungry. She left Sam to continue scouring the Internet to try and find Kevin, whilst she went and got them dinner. It was a rare moment of silent isolation she hadn’t realized she’d been craving. Every moment was filled with frustration, bickering, arguments, and awkward silences with Sam. The short walk to the local diner was the refreshment she needed. When she walked back into the motel room, she saw Sam’s laptop but not Sam. Wandering over, she saw the images and bank details of who he had been checking upon. She’d expected to see the name ‘Kevin Tran.’ But instead, it read ‘Amelia Richardson.’ She sighed heavily, ignoring the pang in her chest. She put the bag of food down on the table and continued to look for Sam. She called his name and found him staring intently at a broken ceiling fan in the bathroom.  
“Sam?” She asked, leaning on the door frame. He turned to her, shock and embarrassment in his eyes. “That a magical ceiling fan, you can’t take your eyes off of?” She teased. Sam let out a forced laugh as he waved his hands.  
“It’s broken. Was distracting me.”

“okay…” Y/N replied, knowing there had to be more to that story. Something in that ceiling fan had caught him in a trance. Pair that with the only slight stalking behavior on his laptop, she decided not to push. “Well, there’s dinner in there, I’ll fix this.” She went to her bag, pulling out her travel tools.  
“It’s fine I can do it.” He argued, coming out of the bathroom.  
“Nah it's fine. Besides, you're better with techno research. Someone needs to stay on it.”  
“Can you even…” he didn’t finish his sentence, seeing the slight insulted look in Y/N eyes. “Of course you can.” He corrected himself. “I'll… get back to research.” He said awkwardly, pointing to the laptop.  
“Yeah, you do that.”

.

.

Y/n didn’t have to busy her hands for too long. It had been an hour when she finally stepped down from fixing the fan. It didn’t really need a full hour to fix it, but she was taking her time - for more alone time. Sitting in the same room as Sam was more difficult now she’d chosen not to be mad at him. Now she wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder, she kept noticing how sad he really looked. The smallest thing would send him into a trance and he was lost to this world until either she or Dean called him back. She knew he was remembering, thinking about what he’d lost by them coming back into his lives. She knew because she’d seen the same expression on her own face when she was missing him. Choosing not to be angry, only left room for her to feel sorry for Sam. She knew how he was feeling, she’d felt it for him. But it hurt, even more, knowing he was feeling it for someone else.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she saw Sam sitting outside with his laptop. He was slumped in his chair and staring off into the distance. Remembering, no doubt. She followed his gaze, not seeing anything significant to her. But who knew what was setting his reminiscing off.

She jumped away from where she’d been standing when she saw Sam stand up and move back inside.  
“Hey, how’s it going?” He asked her, nodding to the bathroom.  
“all fixed.” She smiled. Sam smiled at her and leaned down to get another beer from the fridge. He left his empty one standing on the table, setting Y/N off into her own reminiscing.

.

.

_Tearing away at the beer bottle label, Y/N sat in a corner booth in another dark and dingy bar. She’d been on her own for a month now, going through every single location spell she could think of. But as it turned out, she wasn’t as skilled as she thought she was. Her resources were limited and she was getting desperate. Reaching out to faith healers and claimed witches, even the ones she could tell right away were fake. She was reaching out to everyone and anyone. Without knowing it, it seemed she’s attracted some sort of attention._

_  
“Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” A sudden wait sat down beside her in her booth. She looked up to see greasy black hair and a pervy smile. She didn’t smile back.  
“I’m just trying to have a quiet drink actually,” she replied coldly.   
“Little thing like you shouldn’t be drowning her sorrows away in a place like this. Especially with no one to defend her.” Y/N rolled her eyes. She didn’t usually attract idiots like this, her ‘get away from me' stare, keeping them all at a comfortable distance. But it seemed this one was brave.  
“I can protect myself thanks.” She told him, taking a deep sip from her bottle.  
“I’m sure,” the man said with a laugh. “Such a shame you couldn’t protect Dean Winchester though.” Y/N’s head snapped to look up at the stranger, his words cutting through her like ice. He laughed and blinked, revealing dark inky eyes. Demon. Y/N reached for her knife instantly, but his hand caught her wrist and held her still. “Now, now. No need for that. I’m not here to fight.”  
“Unlucky for you, I've had a bad day and could do with a workout." her words laced with hunter angst. "Why are you here?” She asked bitterly.  
“I have some information you might want to hear.” He slipped his hand away from her, using it to lean on the table with a smug grin. “Rumour is, you’re looking for magic. More advanced magic.”  
_ _“And who’s spreading that rumor?” Y/N asked, not confirming nor denying. The demon laughed.  
“Well after you took out that small coven that double-crossed you in Oregon, you attracted attention from my employer.” Y/N smiled smugly, thinking of the group of hags that had tried to drain her life to power their own magic. they'd promised her secrets and spells. When they turned on her, she was happy to shoot some witch killing bullets in their heads. But then her smile dropped. His emplyer?   
“Crowley?”  
“NO,” The Demon said sourly. “Not Crowley! My employer specializes in the mystic arts, not deals.”  
“A demon working for a witch? I find that hard to believe.” She scoffed.  
“Well believe it, honey. Because she sent me, and she wants to meet.” He pulled out a card from his pocket and slipped it over in front of Y/N. “Don’t be late.” He sniggered before disappearing. _

_With a cold shudder running through her veins, she watched the demon leave the bar and let out the large breath she’d been holding. She looked down at the dark black and red card and saw one initial, coordinates, date, and time. It seemed she had an appointment._

_._

_._

The day off Dean requested had been and gone. It was well into the evening the next day, and still, Y/N and Sam hadn’t heard a word from him. Y/N had called his phone several times, but no response.  
“Nothing,” she sighed, chucking her phone over onto the bed. “You wanna try him?” Sam nodded, pulling out his phone and dialing the number. Very quickly he was met with Dean’s recorded voicemail.  
“This is Dean’s other, other, phone. So you must know what to do.” Sam ended the voice with a beep and fought back the grunt that was sitting in the back of his throat. He didn’t turn to reply to Y/N, too engrossed on the task at hand. He thought Y/N hadn’t noticed, but when she walked past she saw Amelia’s face flash on his screen. He was still checking up on her, her driving license, and bank records. The ache in her chest was too much, so she went outside for a breath of fresh air. Not that Sam had noticed.

Closing the door behind her, she fell back against the brick surface and breathed out heavily.

_\- EXCLUSIVE SCENE / FLASHBACK OVER ON PATREON!_   
_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks -_

She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, with her eyes closed and focussing on her breathing, but eventually, the door beside her opened and Sam popped his head round.  
“It’s Dean,” he told her, before ducking back into the room again. She followed him and heard Dean’s voice as Sam answered the phone and put it on speakerphone. “Hey,”  
“Okay, what?” Dean answered angrily.  
“What?” Sam asked confused at his brother's aggression.  
“Why are you and Y/N calling me non stop?” He whispered.  
“Why are you whispering?” Y/N asked.  
“Kinda hard to explain. In short, in the middle of cleaning out a vampires nest and it sorta went a little sideways on me.”  
“WHAT?” Sam and Y/N both yelled!  
“Are you an idiot Dean?” Sam asked.  
“You know better than to go into a vamp’s nest alone!” Y/N agreed.  
“I’m not alone, damn it!” Dean whispered aggressively. “I’ve got back up. Guy's been tracking the nest for a while.”  
“What guy? Garth?” Y/N guessed.  
“What? no. You two don’t know him. He’s a friend.”  
“A friend?” Sam scoffed. “Dean, all your friends are dead!”  
“That’s not what I called to talk about!”

The frustration was going around and around in circles and Y/N wanted to put a halt to it, but Sam was on a roll with his rant.  
“I get the whole separate lives thing! But this is a hunting thing! And we…”

“Oh god, stop talking!” Dean groaned. “I texted Y/N my coordinates.” Y/N grabbed her phone and saw the text.  
“Got it!” She yelled over.  
“We’re on our way,” Sam said heatedly, “listen, if you handle it, great! I’ll buy your "friend" the first round. But Dean, listen to me…” Sam was shocked at the lack of interruption. “Dean? Are you kidding me?” They both heard the sudden muffled noise and the phone go cold.  
“Let's just go find him.”

* * *

Hijacking a car was easy. A small act of vandalism and criminal activity all hunters stranded without a means of transportation were used to. Y/N grimaced at the bright yellow of the car Sam chose to take, she much preferred a dark sleek looking car. But the style wasn’t important right now. Transportation was all that mattered.

She got into the passenger's side and read out the coordinates to Sam. He found the location and sped off into the night quickly. Fifteen minutes into the drive Y/N was starting to feel the heaviness of the air around them. Neither had said a word. Y/N stole a glance over to Sam’s side of the car and she saw that sad look on his face again. Sam was only half in this world. The other half of his was lost a year ago. He thought back to the day he and Amelia finally had a friendly interaction. When she’d seen him at the motel she was living at, she thought he was some creepy stalkers. He explained how he was working there and left politely. But when his dog got loose one day, it made its way into Amelia's room. Maybe it was the presence of a friendly animal that calmed Amelia down, being a vet and all. Or maybe she wasn’t so suspicious of Sam anymore. They both recognized the loneliness in each other's eyes. They could both see the other was running away from a past, but not entirely sure where they were running to.

Y/N watched as Sams's eyes continued to fill up with sadness. No matter how awkward the conversation would be, or how badly she wished he wasn’t missing someone else, she still reached out a lifeline to him.   
“You want to talk about it?” She asked, grabbing Sam’s attention. “About her?” She clarified when Sam looked at her with confusion.   
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about my year off.”   
“I said I didn’t want to talk about mine. And no, I don’t really want to think about yours but… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sad.” She confessed. Sam looked at her quickly before putting his attention back to the road.   
“Y/N, I just want to say I’m sorry.”   
“No, don’t do that.” Y/N interrupted words less soft this time. “If you want to talk about how much you miss her, or how you wish you had a normal life, I can maybe handle that.” She scoffed. “But you apologizing? I can’t handle that.”   
“I don’t get it. Why?” Sam's frustration was beginning to show.   
“Because I can’t forgive you! I’m trying to be friendly and civil and I can’t do that if you start saying sorry!”   
“You know,” Sam laughed bitterly. “I preferred it when you were shouting at me. When you were pissy with me.”   
“What?”   
“Because this friendly civilness is bullshit! At least when you were screaming at me, I knew you were being real!”   
“You have got to be kidding me!” She shouted furiously. “You want real?”   
“Yes! Be honest with me for once!”   
  
“Fine!” She screamed, tears building up in her eyes. “You want to know how I really feel? I feel betrayed! I kept myself away from people because I couldn’t handle losing people anymore! I was terrified of being alone! You promised me you would never leave me! I lost my family, then I lost Bobby and then I lost Dean! But I didn’t lose you did I? No! You left me! You did the one thing you swore you would never do! And I was stupid enough to believe you! And you know what stung even more! When I found you and saw you with her, I saw how happy you were! I saw the life I could never give you, so no wonder you left me! And I felt guilty for being mad at you, for expecting you to stay! So don’t you dare apologize to me to make yourself feel better!”   
  
The tears and the anger spilled out of Y/N. In some ways, it was a relief. The words were finally out there and she didn’t have to hide anymore. But that relief lasted on a few seconds before Sam finally spoke out again.   
“Y/N, I’m…”   
“Just drive,” Y/N said forcefully, turning away to look out the window and away from Sam. “I told you I wasn’t ready to talk about this yet.”

* * *

When they finally arrived at Dean’s destination, Y/N stayed in the car until she saw Dean approach them on the boat. Not another word was uttered for the rest of the journey. Y/N fought back the tears and Sam fought back the apologies. When he finally left the car, it was like she could finally breathe. Y/N was still in shock over the words she had allowed to spill out. It was like one wave after another. The resentment, the anger, and the betrayal she had been feeling for a year finally caught up with her. She thought she would only ever feel this violent pain in her chest. But when she finally let it out, she was shocked to find that there was still a stubborn slice of love for Sam, still clinging on. She hated that the most.

She climbed out of the car once Dean was ashore. She smiled at Dean until she saw the man that was accompanying him. He was just a bit smaller than Dean, thicker, and with a cap and beard. He looked innocent enough but there was something Y/N couldn’t put her finger on.   
“I’m Benny.” He said in a gruff voice, offering his hand out to Sam. Sam took it and shook it slowly. “I’ve heard all about you, Sam…” Y/N watched the interaction but was caught off guard by the silent exchange of words that went from brother to brother. Sam had seen something and looked at Dean for an explanation. Dean shook his head to slow his brother down. “And you must be Y/N.” Benny let go of Sam's hand and reached out for Y/N, she smiled politely and reached out. But when her hand met his, her smile dropped as she realized what Dean had hidden and Sam had just discovered. The confusion on Y/N’s face translated even further when she was quick to pull her hand away. “I can see you three have a lot to talk about,” Benny said politely before walking away. Y/N and Sam both looked at Dean angrily.

A vampire?


	5. Southern Comfort.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With all the tension in the air between the hunters, is a case really the best thing to do? Well, they're doing it anyway. To spice things up, even more, a friendly face from the past joins them and Y/N is now worried about her secret getting spilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how are we feeling about the finale? Because I could write an essay about my feelings on it. But honestly, I was happy with it. Mainly because I refuse to accept it's over and I'm just gonna keep rewatching every episode! And the latest, Season 8 Episode 6! Let's see what happens!

Sam returned from the cafe with a bag of food and a tray of drinks.  
“Heads up.” He warned his brother before handing him the tray. His brother looked up, setting the tray on the top of the Impala, and pulled out his drink.  
“Caught wind of a case on the police scanners.” He murmured, shoving his phone back in his pocket and pulling out the large coffee yet to be claimed. He pushed it forward, offering it to Y/N who was leaning on the body of the Impala, staring off into space. She didn’t register Dean’s offering and continued to look into the distance.  
“I wasn’t even gone for ten minutes.” Sam pointed out in disgruntled awe.

“Okay, that matters why?” Dean asked, giving up on trying to get Y/N attention and placing the coffee back on the roof of the car.  
“I don’t know Dean. How about because you haven't said a word to me since Prince Island. And now what? You want me to shut up, play shotgun, and act as if nothing happened.” Sam ranted.  
“You wanna talk about Benny? Alright, let’s talk.” Dean steadies himself for the lecture he knew was coming, but wasn’t happy about any less.  
“Alright, how about he’s a vampire.”  
“He’s also the reason I’m topside and not on a spit in Purgatory. Anything else?”  
“Don’t act like I don’t get it. You did what you had to do down there…”  
“I highly doubt you get anything about Purgatory.”  
“But you’re out now. And Benny’s still breathing. Why?” There was a heavy silence that hung in the air, briefly before Dean settled his stare sternly.  
“Because he’s my friend Sam.”

The boys continued to argue, unnoticed by Y/N. She leaned against the Impala and was happy to be adrift in her own thoughts. Since she finally spat out her truth to Sam, and Dean revealed his alliance with the Vampire, the whole dynamic had changed. Everyone felt betrayed by the other. It was a triangle of resentment and pent-up aggression. Y/N hadn’t even begun to consider how she felt about Benny. Her knee jerk reaction was to slay and move on. He was a Vampire, after all, the typical monster she was trained to kill. But since being with the Winchesters, the clear lines began to blur. When she stumbled into their lives, Sam was mad at Dean for killing his friend Amy. Another monster desperately trying to fight her DNA. Now it seemed Dean had paired up with another monster of a different breed, but with the same M.O. A year ago, she told Sam to get over it, if it meant he would still have a relationship with his brother, someone to have his back. So it would be hypocritical to have the opposite advice now. But that wasn’t her main problem.  
She’d finally told Sam with point-blank words how much he’d hurt her. Not in snide comments or acts of rebellion. She said the words to him. He betrayed her by promising never to leave her stranded and then doing exactly that. She wasn’t ready to forgive him, but she wasn’t ready to go back to living without him either. Her mind was hazy and filled with so much confusion. And to add a cherry on top, she was still hiding secrets from the boys. They knew something had changed. They’d seen outbursts of her magical abilities, much greater than the year before, and they’d seen the damage that often followed. But she hadn’t told them how, or the extent of her changes. And she had no plans to do so either. Not now anyway.  
  
“Look, if Benny slips up and some other hunter turns his lights out, so be it.” Dean’s voice drifted back into Y/N’s head.  
“But it’s not going to be you right?” Sam asked resentfully.  
“You coming or not?” Without answering the question, Sam got the information he needed. Dean went to open the car, ready to move swiftly on to work. But Y/N was still leaning on the door and staring into space. “Earth to Y/N!” He sang, waving his hands in her face. “Anyone home?” The blurry motion of Dean’s fingers snapped her back to reality, she grimaced and push his hand away.  
“Alright, alright.” She moaned. “I’m listening.”  
“We got a case,” Dean told her. “If you would care to join us.” Y/N sighed, rolled her shoulder back, and pushed herself up to standing. It was time to work, not mope.  
“Who? What? And where?” She asked, reaching for her coffee and flinging the door open. Dean smiled childishly, happy at least Y/N was eager to work and not ask difficult questions.  
“Husband and wife, decapitation in Missouri.”  
“Okay, let’s go.” Y/N nodded.  
“What that’s it? That’s all you need to know and you’re happy to jump on a case?” Sam asked in slight horror.  
“I asked three more questions than you did.” She muttered before ducking into the car.

* * *

They rolled onto the crime scene of the husband and wife’s house. There was warmth and the sun was beating down heavily on the car, but there was a slight breeze that made it no completely unbearable in their suits.  
“So, guy's old lady comes home whilst he’s working underneath his ride. Put the metal to the peddle, takes half his head off.” Y/N squinted at the Dean’s rendition of the night before. So far nothing supernatural but still edgy enough for her to wait and see.  
“That’s it?” Sam asked. It seemed it wasn’t enough for him to tag along and see what happens.  
“Yeah in a nutshell. She says she blacked out and doesn’t remember a damned thing.”  
“Well, that sounds like insanity,” Sam argued.  
“Or possession,” Y/N added quietly.  
“Exactly,” Dean grinned. “Besides, when is decapitation, not our thing?”

An officer dressed in a brown uniform ran over with his handheld high before they could duck under the police tape.  
“Whoah, Whoah, Whoah!” He went to stop them. They pulled out and flashed their badges to ease his mind. “FBI?” He asked.  
“Yeah, in the area.” Y/N lied. “Thought we could lend a hand.”  
“First The Texas Ranger, now you guys?” The officer laughed in disbelief.  
“Texas Ranger?” Dean asked.  
“Yes, sir. Right over there.” The officer turned and pointed to a man in a brown jacket and a Stetson hat talking to another man up ahead. The man turned and each hunter had their own immediate thought.  
  
 _Dean - You gotta be kidding me._

_Sam - Great, just what we need._

_Y/N - shit._

Garth took off his hat, fanned his face and he turned slightly to his side, revealing his face. The suited hunters made their way over, bracing themselves for the whirlwind of odd that was heading their way.  
“Hey Chuck Norris,” Dean called out. Garth turned in shock to the familiar voice and saw the three hunters he hadn’t seen in so long.  
“Sam? Dean!” With excitement, he went to hug each one individually with enthusiasm. Sam stepped back slightly at the sudden weight of Garth’s form around him.  
“Forgot he was a hugger,” Sam said under his breath.  
“Okay, okay,” Dean argues when it was his turn. Garth released each brother from their hug and turned to Y/N. He looked her in the face and gave a polite stiff nod hello. Sam was taken back. The last time he’d seen Y/N and Garth together, they were fond friends. Y/N was always rolling her eyes and laughing at Garth's antics, always happy to humor him with a hug and friendly word. She went along with the strange things that came out of his mouth and trusted his judgment as a hunter. But now, the two looked fearful to see one another. Garth shuffled on his feet before painting back the bright smile on his face and spoke to the group as a whole.  
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you!” He gushed. The boys nodded politely, trying to maintain a professional appearance for the civilian standing behind Garth.  
“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Y/N asked politely as they all stepped aside.

“Texas Ranger, Garth? Really? We’re in Missouri!” Dean interrogated once the four were out of earshot.  
“What?” Garth asked with light defensiveness. “Come on, I’d look like a funeral director in one of those.” He told them, pointing to their suits. “Wow! I heard some chatter you two were back in the batter's box but I didn’t believe it until now.”  
“Y/N didn’t keep you in the loop?” Sam asked, prodding the odd situation with Y/N and Garth even more. Garth laughed at them.  
“You’re kidding. This one’s been avoiding other hunters like the plague all year.” He said with a smile, seemingly forgetting Y/N’s presence. The boys turned to Y/N, waiting for an explication. Lucky for Y/N they were interrupted by the sound of Garth's phone playing ‘Jump’ by Kriss Kross. Garth opened his jacket, revealing three pockets with three different phones. He checked one individually before concluding which one was ringing. The hunters looked at each other with the usual bemused expression whenever Garth did something… Garth like. “Yo! Arrow! What you got… a reverent? Okay, you’ll need a casket and some silver spikes. Oh! And don’t get bit! No, it won’t turn you but it’ll hurt like hell.” Sam and Y/N looked around, unsure if they were impressed or annoyed at Garth's loud tone in a scene of civilians. Their confusion quickly moved on as they heard Garth go on to give instructions to another hunter on how to kill a monster.  
“What are you doing?” Dean asked when Garth said his goodbyes and hung up the phone.  
“My job, hombre!” He said merrily.  
“You’re job? Since when is giving advice, your job?” Dean asked.  
“Hold up!” Sam thought aloud. “Are you the new Bobby?”  
“Shut your mouth!” Dean shot with hurtful anger.  
“Yes.” Garth continued.  
“You shut your mouth!” Dean carried on, pointing to Garth. “What?” he asked when Garth didn’t wobble.  
“Bobby was gone, you two were M.I.A and Y/N was off….” They all had different expressions, waiting for Garth to finish his sentence. Dean and Sam stood patiently, waiting to see if they could dig up another piece of Y/N’s year off she wouldn’t tell them about. Y/N’s death stare was enough to shut Garth’s sentence down quickly. “Doing whatever… it was a weird time! Someone had to step in and take up the slack.”

“Did you know about this?” he asked turning to Y/N again. She didn’t have to answer as Garth stepped up quickly.  
“Let’s just get back to work and we can talk about this later, alright?” Garth ordered them before stepping back to his interviewee.  
“Did Garth just tell us what to do?” Dean asked in disbelief,

They finished their interview with Scott Loo on the edge of the scene. The son of the parents was just as shocked as anyone by what had happened. But he was able to give some background. There was no history of family issues, mental or physical health on the mother's end, and he was quick to dispute anything ‘out of the ordinary.’ He insisted the high school sweethearts were happy and this was an unexplainable event. So no lead there.

.

.

They scanned the crime scene. Y/N and Sam were crouching on the ground, avoiding eye contact and scanning the grounds for EMF.  
“No EMF.” They both concluding, standing back up.  
“Or traces of Sulphur anywhere. This is a bust.” Sam complained, feeling his time was being wasted.  
“Hold on there, Sam. There’s a lot of things to factor in here.” Garth took charge, looking around the scene with a keen eye. “It happened last night, so the readings could be cold by now.”  
“Good point,” Dean answered smugly.  
“And even if there were any sulfur, Barney Fyth and his crew probably contaminated the crime scene and any evidence along with it.”  
“Wow, he’s on a roll.” Dean echoed. His smugness earning a cold ‘shut up’ stare from Y/N.  
“That one word for it,” Sam muttered.  
“Err guys,” Garth’s voice called them back into focus. “I think I found something.” Garth lifted up his boot. Sticking between the soul off his shoe and the ground, was dark green slime with the consistency of gum.  
“Is that gum or is that ectoplasm?” Dean asked.  
“Ectoplasm’s black.” Y/N pointed out, leaning down to get a closer look. Garth took his finger and swabbed a sample before putting it in his mouth. The others grimaced as he studied the taste in his mouth.  
“Defiantly ectoplasm.” Garth decided. “So what are we thinking. Some sort of ghost right?” Dean clicked his fingers and pointed to Y/N in a form of celebration.  
“You called it!” He told her.  
“Yippee for me.” She said flatly.

Garth’s phone began to ring again, this time to the tune of ‘Wild, Wild, West’ by Will Smith.  
“Ranger McGray here,” he answered after finding the right phone. “Great, okay…. okay. Thanks, doc.” As he listened, Garth pulled out a marker and began writing something on his hand. Y/N wanted to point out one of their notepads would probably have been more convenient, but what would be the point? Garth hung up and turned to address them. “ I asked the coroner to drop me a line just in case the autopsy turned up anything unusual. And guess what. Our dead guy had the word ‘ALCOT’ carved into his chest.” Garth showed his palm to show the marked letters written on his skin.   
“With what?” Sam asked.  
“Coroner’s best guess, his wife Mary’s fingernails.”

* * *

Y/N had gotten used to the hospital and morgues during her time as a hunter, but this time she felt unsettled. The emotion of a woman in deep despair and guilt for killing her husband was thick like smog. If it truly was a possession, this woman didn’t belong in cuffs, but there was no outcome bar the hunters sneaking her out of the building and becoming a fugitive.

“Mrs. Loo, can you tell us what happened?” Sam asked in his hushed deep voice. It was his gentle civilian voice. But it did little to ease the creased brow of the tormented widow.  
“I was at the store getting groceries. Then the next thing I know, my son Scott finds me in the driveway,” her eyes glossed over as the memories of the horrendous night before flashed through her mind. “And Chester was…” she couldn’t bear to finish her sentence.  
“Do you remember anything at all, about what happened? about… Chester dying.” Y/N hated saying the words to the woman, but they had little time for hand-holding. If this was a ghost possession, the smallest detail could tell them who’s bones they had to salt and burn.  
“Not really, bits and pieces I guess.” The sound of Garth forcing back his sniggering grabbed the hunter’s attention. The accidental pun relating her husband's final state entertaining Garth. He looked around to see if anyone else got the joke. No one did, he coughed.  
“Such as?” Dean asked.  
“I remember his screams. The smell of burnt rubber. And I remember feeling so angry. Just feeling this uncontrollable rage. I wasn’t myself.” She insisted. “After it was over, all that anger was just gone.”  
“Uh, ma'am,” Garth began gently. “Does the word Acolt mean anything to you?” The despair and pain in the woman’s face quickly turned icy cold and full of unwanted resentment.  
“What has she got to do with anything?” She asked bitterly.  
“It’s a she?” Sam asked.  
“My husband and I were going steady in high-school for a few years when we had a big fight and broke up.”  
“What about?”  
“Something stupid I’m sure. It was around prom so Chester took Sarah Alcot instead of me.” She said with humorous anger.  
“So this Sarah Alcot was a rival for your husband’s affections?” Garth asked, and Mrs. Loo did not like that question one bit.  
“She had one night with Chester. Whereas I was with him for thirty-seven years.” Her eyes began to well up with tears. They should go, Y/N thought.  
“We’re sorry.” She said. “We just have one more question. Is, Ms. Alcot still alive?”  
“As far as I know, yes.”

“So let me get this straight.” Dean went on as they left the hospital. “This guy takes another woman to prom over thirty years ago and because of that he’s now a pancake?”  
“We still thinking possession?” Sam asked.  
“You heard her, Alcot is still alive,” Dean argued. Alcot couldn’t be the ghost possessing in aid of revenge. But she still had a strong part to play in this somehow.  
“Well, we’re still gonna want to talk to her,” Y/N told them.  
“Yeah sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed. “Did we eat yet?”

* * *

The bar was like any other dig they hauled up in for recharging and refreshments. There was a pool table and waiting on staff bringing greasy fried food. They sat around the table, the brothers side by side on one end, and Y/N and Garth on the other. Garth moaned in happy groans as the food came his way.  
“So Dean, give me the skinny.” Garth rambled on with a mouth full of food. “Where were you this past year.” Dean looked down at his food briefly.  
“How about we save what I did on my summer vacation for another time?”  
“Ah, come one!” Garth insisted. “I know you were somewhere this one couldn’t find you.” He said motioning to Y/N. “The only time she would reach out was when she needed help tracking or something or other.” Y/N looked away, wishing Garth would stop talking about her. He wasn’t giving up any information the boys didn’t know, but the more they spoke, the more they got the sense Garth knew more about Y/N’s year then they did. Sam studied the way Y/N naturally turned away in her seat slightly as Dean replied.  
“Alright, I was in Purgatory.”  
“Like, Purgatory? Purgatory?”  
“No the one in Miami.”  
“Man, that’s balls.” Y/N and Dean couldn’t fight the slightly disgusted look they sent towards Garth.  
“That’s not how you say balls,” Dean told him, annoyed at his misuse of Bobby’s phrase. Garth just laughed him off.  
“So how’d you get out? Y/N’s mission finally paid off?” Y/N silence Garth by piping up with a distraction of her own.  
“What's up with the Hillbilly flags? These people know the civil war is over right?” She asked in a forced cheerful tone. It didn’t work on distracting the boys, but it sure changed the subject matter for Garth. He looked around with an eager expression.  
“That’s actually kind of a sore spot around these parts. See Missouri was a border state. So half the men were confederate, the other was union.” Garth’s bizarre knowledge came as a godsend for Y/N as it worked on taking the boys away from their silent questions.  
“How do you know all this?” Sam asked.  
“I went to college. Then onto dental school.”  
“You were a dentist?” Dean asked.  
“For like a hot minute.”  
“Where do you think he got his first case?” Y/N added, not being able to help the smirk on her lips.  
“Let me guess, the tooth fairy.” Dean joked. But the fall of Garth’s face wiped his joke clean.  
“Yeah, I mean. I felt terrible when I ganked that S.O.B.” he sighed, finally putting his fork down on the table in somber remembrance.  
“Wait? You killed the tooth fairy?” Sam asked, looking to Y/N and waiting for her to tell him it was all a joke.  
“Hey, it wasn’t my proudest moment,” Garth told them. “But it happened!”

* * *

As the hunters finished their awkward and odd lunch break, little to their knowledge another murder took place. They arrived at the crime scene to find Scott Loo, the son of the pained couple, had bludgeoned a man to death. The dark red pool of blood evidence of his actions.  
“So first mom goes natural born killer and now the son?” Dean thought out aloud.  
“Looks like it,” Y/N said, her back a bit straighter now they were back to focusing just on the work. “Hey check that out.” She pointed to the fridge in the corner where letters had been smeared in bright red blood. “What’s Sussex?” She asked.  
“Another name?” Dean guessed.

Garth finally joined them, only this time wearing a very different hat. The ragged and torn green cap resembling one of Bobby’s very strongly. As he walked over, he stepped in another dollop of green ectoplasm.  
“Oh come on!” He wined, lifting this boot. “Scott insisted he wasn’t in control of himself. All he remembers is a red hot rage.”  
“Is that Bobby’s hat?” Dean asked, hoping the answer would be ‘no.’  
“Sure is,” Garth said proudly. “We worked a case a few years back. He left it in my car so I kept it as a …” Dean snatched the hat off of his head with outraged hands. “... memento. What are you doing?”  
“That’s not how you wear it!” Dean whispered furiously.  
“Agents.” The hunters turned at the sound of the police officer trying to gain their attention. “Surveillance is up, but there’s something all screwy with it. They walked to the screen to watch the footage of Scott hammering away at the poor man's head. But his eyes and reflection let out a burst of light, messing with the tape. “Must be the camera.” The officer said. Sam smiled and dismissed him, knowing far too well it wasn’t the camera. The agent left and the hunters turned.  
“Ever seen anything like that before?” Y/N asked the men. They all shook their heads.  
“So, now what?” Sam asked.  
“We need to talk to Sarah Alcot,” Garth told them, going into one of his rare hunters in control moments. “I found her. These days she goes by Sarah Brown. I say me and Dean look into ‘Sussex’ and Sam and Y/N can go talk to Alcot. Okay? Great!” Before anyone had a chance to argue, Garth was walking away. They had their assignments, even if they weren’t with their ideal partners.

* * *

Sarah Brown's house was the perfect depiction of American suburbia, she had bright pink flowers dotted in lush green bushes, arching the white beams of her front porch. The three sat on outside cushioned chairs and sipped the ice tea Sarah brought out to them once they told her why they were there. They sat making small talk for a minute or so until Ms. Alcot got straight to the point.  
“Now I know you didn’t come all this way, just for my sweet tea agents.” Sam and Y/N both smiled politely at the woman’s candid nature.  
“No, um… actually we’re here about Chester Loo,” Sam told her politely.  
“Oh yes,” Sarah nodded, her smile wavering slightly. “So sad.”  
“Yes,” Y/N agreed. “Is it true you and Chester dated a while back?” Sarah laughed at the question.  
“Well that is an odd question for the FBI, is it not?”  
“You wouldn’t believe the odd questions we have to ask,” Y/N replied with a friendly smirk.  
“I bet.” Sarah laughed along. “Well yes. Me and that old Tom Cat Chester, went to prom together. That’s about it.” Y/N raised her eyebrow at the glimmer in the woman’s eye.  
“And that’s all?” She prompted. Sarah smiled knowing she’d been caught in the act.  
“Well, I wasn’t always such a good girl back then.” The hunters nodded knowingly. “After I thought Chester and I were going to be hot and heavy but it just… wasn’t meant to be. And a week later he eloped with Mary.”  
“Did you speak much to Mary or Chester after that?” Sam asked.  
“Well I’d see them about. Picnics and such. But, Mary kept Chester on a pretty short leash. Honestly, I moved on. But it seemed she never did.” Sam and Y/N both nodded at one another, believing the woman’s tale. Whatever was going on, was nothing of her conscious doing.  
“Thank you very much for your help,” Sam said with a smile as they all stood up and bared their farewells.

The short walk back the the car was silent and no one had to ask why. Sam was back in his routine of fading off into the past to avoid living with the future. Y/N shuffled with her phone awkwardly, waiting for him to come back to this lifetime. For the first time in a while, she felt so alone with a companion by her side.

* * *

Dean and Garth were back in the motel looking over books and old hunting diaries.So far they’d managed to figure out that Sussex wasn’t a who, it was a what. A poor business venture with the latest victim caused Scott to lose all his money. So there was there M.O. but so far they had no idea what was setting these people off so violently.  
“So, Y/N tell you about what she’s been up to?” Garth asked in a poor attempt of nonchalant questions. Dean looked up from his laptop and cocked an eyebrow.  
“Subtle. nice.” He said sarcastically before rolling his eyes at Garth’s coy smile. “Trying to get information out of her is like pulling teeth at the moment.” He sighed. “What about you?” He asked. Garth immediately avoided eye contact and shrugged. “Oh don’t give me that. You know something we don’t. What is it, Garth?”  
“No way hombre.” Garth laughed. “I’m way more scared of her than I am of you!” He joked before settling his gaze on Dean. “But…” he stuttered. Worry drenching his face for the first time Dean had ever seen. “Keep an eye on her.” Dean went to ask for more information but his phone began to ring.  
“Speak of the Devil, you’re on speaker!” He told the other end of the call as he answered.  
“Alcott's clean,” Y/N told them. “If you ignore the fact she and Chester had a one night stand on prom night.”  
“Okay. So Mary has a grudge on Sarah…” Dean began to comb his way through the information in his mind. “And Scott has a grudge against Geoff. Apart from this making, my head hurt, how does this add up to a ghost?”  
“Guys! Bobby has it right here!” Garth was flicking through Bobby’s diary when finally, he found his breakthrough. “Green goo equals a Spectre!”  
“Which equals ghost right?”  
“Yeah, kind of. A Spectre is an avenging ghost. It posses you and forced you to act out on any betrayals you’re feeling.”  
“Bobby say anything on how to kill one of those things?” Sam asked over the phone.  
“Uh… the last Spectre he encounters was after someone desecrated a nearby grave.” Garth continued to read aloud. “Which…. There was a local grave desecrated three days ago. Says here it’s…. oh. This could get awkward.”

.

.

The sun was setting and they pulled up outside the memorial grave. An armed guard stood beside the tomb, decorated with a waving American flag.  
“The Unknown Soldier! You’re kidding me right!” Dean growled.  
“Mary Loo killed her husband the day after this place was vandalized. Do the math.” Garth insisted.  
“But I thought the unknown soldier was buried in Arlington.” Sam pointed out.  
“Yeah but this is the confederate tomb of The Unknown Soldier. See the idea was, they took a faceless and nameless soldier they couldn’t identify and buried him here to commemorate all the soldiers who died.” Garth told them, rather eloquently.  
“What you learn that in college?” Dean scoffed.  
“Nope, civil war re-enactment. Once a year, every year.” Dean continued to look at Garth in disbelief. Could this man get any weirder? “Don’t hate.” Garth chirped.  
“What about the guard?” Y/N interrupted.  
“He’s ceremonial. Gone by dusk.”  
“So we gotta do this tonight?” Y/N asked. Garth nodded and the situation suddenly dawned on them.  
“Burn a confederate soldier's bones in a town full of red-necks. Sure!”

.

.

Once the night was covering them, they took their flashlights and broke into the tomb. It smelt off old dust and damp air, but it was generally clean for a tomb.  
“Doesn’t look disturbed to me,” Sam observed, shutting the door behind him. “What does the police report say?”  
“Some kids messing around.” Y/N recited from memory. “They found some beer cans, graffiti, and the casket was open. But they closed it back up.”  
“Yeah but not before Casper had a chance to run for it,” Dean added.  
“So, what? They never touched this none of this would be happening?” Sam asked, always marveled by the consequences of stupid young civilians.  
“Yeah, according to Bobby.” Garth agreed.  
“Okay, well let’s get this started.” Dean clapped his hands ready to get to work.

Whilst the team was talking about the causes of this ghost on the run, Sam knelt down to lower his backpack but saw something that caught his eye. A piece of string. He shrugged and put it in his pocket. “Sam, you wanna help me open this thing?” Dean asked.  
“Why doesn’t Y/N just… whoosh this thing?” Garth asked, motioning his arms in the air. Y/N looked at him with wide angry eyes. “Or not. She can’t do that. Let’s haul this thing together.” He laughed awkwardly. “One, two three!” He attempted to open the casket by himself to quickly move the tension in the air away. But being the size he was, he had little luck.  
“Whoah okay! Wait on there!” Dean rushed beside him. “Come on then.” They all gathered around the casket and together pushed it open. The smell of a rotting dusty body greeted them quickly, but they were used to it by now.  
“Wow! Check out this hardware!” Garth marveled, looking at the uniform and weapons the soldier was buried with. “Do you guys know how much this stuff is worth?”  
“Why didn’t they take anything?” Y/N asked. “What was the point of opening it up if you weren’t going to nab a souvenir.”  
“Maybe the cops showed up and they had to split fast,” Sam guest, handing Garth and Y/N large packs of salt.  
“You sure this will work? Even on a Spectre?” Garth asked, watching Dean get out a pack of matches.  
“Well, it’s a ghost. Burn its bones, the ghost disappears.” They poured on the salt and oil, readying the bones to be burnt.  
“I think we should say something,” Garth suggested. The hunters all looked at each other, lost for words. Dean answered with a shrug.  
“Sure. We won!” Garth side-eyed his humor as Dean lit the matches and they set the bones on fire.

* * *

When they got the call, they all groaned. It hadn’t worked. They arrived at the police office to find the Sheriff's brains splattered across the wall and the officer they had spoken to earlier in chains and utterly distraught. They saw the green goo on the desk to confirm their suspicions.  
“Maybe we burnt the wrong Red-neck.” Dean sighed.  
“Maybe not,” Y/N suggested. “The kids could have taken something and the ghost is using that to get around.”  
“You saw the body, nothing was taken,” Garth said.  
“We don’t know that. We don’t know what that body was originally buried with. Whatever was taken, the Spectre jumps on for the ride and possesses anyone who has the object.” Y/N guessed.  
“Well, who has it now? And who have they got a grudge against?”

.

.

The deputy looked down at the table, his eyes burning to shock and fear from his own actions. It only took a few moments of no self-control and his hands had acted out and taken a life. The same hands were now locked in cuffs, but it made him feel no safer for himself or those around him.  
“This is important, Deputy. Other lives could be at stake.” Sam told him sternly, trying to get the traumatized man to focus. “Tell me what happened when you shot the sheriff.” Garth, Dean, and Y/N all stood by and watched as Sam crouched before the shell of a man and attempted to make sense of his story.  
“I was on the ground,” the deputy spoke. “I think Carl tackled me and I asked him what happened.” He spoke evenly with no emotion, desperate to get the words out without breaking down.  
“And?” Dean prompted to his sudden silence.  
“He didn’t answer me. He just took my gun and walked away.” Y/N pulled at Dean’s sleeve. An officer taking another officer's weapon without cuffing or arresting him for the murder he just committed? That sounded out of character, and like he had the sudden urge to act out on some revenge.  
“Did he say where he was going?” Y/N asked, worried they could already be too late.  
“I guess… I must have hurt him too. He said he was going to the hospital.”

All the hunters left the cell to get back to work and make a plan.  
“You two find out all you can about The Unknown Soldier,” Dean ordered Sam and Garth. “Y/N, you and me, got the hospital!”

* * *

In the Impala the two sped towards the hospital, ready for a fight against another civilian in no control of their actions. Y/N pulled out Bobby’s diary and continued to scan the pages to see if they had missed anything. So far there was no new information.  
“He knows, doesn’t he?” Dean’s voice pierced through Baby’s loud rumble.  
“What?” She asked, looking up.  
“Garth. Whatever big secret you’re keeping from me and Sam. He knows doesn’t he?” Y/N looked bewildered as she saw the hospital come into sight.  
“You want to do this now? Here?” She asked, her hand waving to the building in front of him.

“We’ve got to talk about this, Y/N.” He insisted as they pulled up.  
“Dean, there’s a possessed man with a gun, possibly in that hospital. And now you want to question me about my summer vacation?” Y/N scoffed leaping out of the car before Dean could answer her. Dean shouted out her name as he followed her onto the streets outside the hospital.  
“Eventually you’re gonna have to tell us,” Dean said angrily. He followed her as she ran over to a police van. Y/N continued to ignore his grumbles as they poked their heads into the open windows. There was no police officer or weapons in the car. Then a sudden sound of a shotgun blowing into the air and the sound of shattering glass filled their ears. It came from inside the hospital. Both their eyes widened at the sound and any argument Dean wanted to have with Y/N was forgotten as they both leaped into action and ran towards the danger.

When they ran into the entrance they saw the officer pointing his gun in the face of a nurse crouching on the floor. He was shouting at the man in blue scrubs about some childhood game he had lost. The man on the floor looked terrified, questioning why such a small thing he’d done as a child had led him to look down the barrel of a gun. Before he had a chance to wrap his head around any possibility, the officer took his shot. But instead of a loud bang, was just a click.  
“Looks like your shooting blanks.” Dean quipped at the lack of ammo in the man's weapon. The officer turned to the sound of the man's voice and was greeted by Dean’s fist.

Y/N ran to the side of the nurse laying on the floor with bright red cheeks. She looked and saw there were only a few people on this floor. She gathered them all up and ushered them to a room in the back.  
“Stay here.” She told them. She heard the sound of Dean fighting and scuffing with the man as she ran back down the hall to fight by his side. But when she got back to the entrance, the room was quiet. Dean looked at the officer's body passed out on the floor with a dark serious look. “Dean?” Y/N asked with confusion. “What happened?” She ran to his side and touched his arm, making him flinch. That was when she saw it, the green goo oozing from Dean’s ear. Before she had a chance to think of an escape route, Dean whacked her over the head and punched her lights outs. All she saw was darkness as she quickly slipped out of consciousness.

* * *

Sam and Garth both ran from the library with the information fresh in their minds. The theory they had gathered was that The Unknown Soldier was a local boy, Vance Collins, shot and killed by his brother who fought on the other side of the Civil War. With his dying breath, he swore vengeance on his brother. When guilt overtook his brother, he dug up his dead brother and brought him back to their home town to be buried. All soldiers were given a small penny on a string by their family for good luck. And if they were to ever get lost, they always had something to trade for food or drink. Sam thought back to the random piece of string he found beside the desecrated casket. The teenagers who vandalized the tomb and started this entire problem off must have taken the penny that sat with the soldier's dead bones. Somehow it made its way to Mrs. Loo and the murders began.

They rang Dean’s phone over and over again, even Y/N’s. But no one was picking up. They went back to the motel and saw the Impala parked out front. Sam and Garth ran into the room and saw Dean sitting on the bed and staring at the walls.  
“Dean? What the hell man! We went to the hospital and you weren’t there! Where’s Y/N? Why aren’t you answering your phone?” The two men stood and watched as Dean stood from his seat, cocking his gun and pointing it at Sam. They saw the green goo coming from his ear and knew what was going on.  
“You should have looked for me when I was in purgatory,” Dean said with fierce anger in his eyes.

Sam looked at the silver gun aimed in his direction and the hated look from his brother.  
“Come on Dean. I know it’s not you in there pulling the strings.” His attempt to reach his brother was hopeless. The Spectre had its grips firmly in Dean’s range.  
“Shut up!” He yelled. Garth tried to make a subtle move for his gun but Dean saw. “Don’t!” He shouted before Garth could do anything. “You never even wanted this life.” He hissed at his brother. “You always blamed me for pulling you back into it.”  
“That’s not true.”  
“Really? Because everything you have done since you jumped into my ride is to deceive me!”  
“What do you want me to say? That I made mistakes? I’ve made mistakes Dean!”

“That’s not Dean, Sam.” Garth tried to rationalize. There was no point in trying to talk him out of this. He was possessed and needed to be freed before they could have this conversation.  
“Shut up!” Dean yelled! Annoyed Garth was trying to interrupt this moment. “Mistakes? Well, let’s go through some of Sammy’s greatest hits!” He slowly stepped forward to the men. “Drinking demon blood? Check. Being in cahoots with Ruby? Not telling me you lost your soul! Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, let me think you were dead whilst you were doing all sorts of crazy. Those aren’t mistakes, Sam! Those are choices!” Sam looked up at his rage-filled brother.  
“Alright. You said it. We both might have played it a little fast and loose.”  
“Yeah, I might have lied. But I never once betrayed you! I never once left you to die! And for what? A girl? You left me to die for a girl!” That was the last straw for Sam. His feeling for Amelia was still so fresh. The loss of life he always yearned for and finally got a taste. He lunged for his brother, knocking him forward. But Dean fought back. The two wrestled and fell into a glass separator. The floor was filled with broken glass falling to the carpet. Dean got one hard punch into his brother's face before kicking up onto the wooden table. It broke against his weight and Sam was left helpless on the floor. As Dean lifted up his gun, Garth finally intervened.  
“Whoah!” He raised his hands, standing between the brother.  
“Garth don’t!” Sam warned him.  
“No, he won’t kill me. His beef isn’t with me. You aren’t going to shoot me are you Dean?”  
“Move,” Dean ordered.  
“You do not want to do this Dean. You do not want to kill your brother. You’ve been protecting him your whole life. Don’t stop now.”  
“He left me to rot in Purgatory!”  
“Alright, maybe he did. I don’t know I wasn’t there. But even if he did I’m sure he had his reasons.”  
“Just like you had your reasons for benny!” Sam jabbed from the floor, blood dripping down his face.  
“Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you have ever been!” Dean shot back loudly. “That’s right! Cas let me down, you let me down. Hell even Y/N is hiding secrets from me! The only person who hasn’t let me down is Benny!” The mention of Y/N’s name suddenly prompted Garth and Sam to remember the fourth member of their hunting team. Y/N! Where was she?  
“Where is Y/N, Dean?” Garth asked with worry. Dean didn’t answer. He just looked down at his brother with pure hatred.  
“Goodbye, Sam.” He said.

Before he could pull the trigger, he was hit over the head with a crowbar from the back of the Impala. Dean fell to the floor from the sudden hit, dropping the gun and the penny. He fell and revealed Y/N standing behind with a cut lip and a pissed off look in her eye.  
“The back of the Impala? Did you tie me up in the back of the Impala? Seriously?” She asked the other man on the floor. At the sight of Y/N, Garth sighed with relief and knelt down to pick up the cursed penny.  
“Garth don’t!” Sam yelled, watching Garth’s skin come in contact with the metal.  
“It’s cool. It’s all good. I'm all cool.” He told them. For some unknown Garth reason, the man had no range or revenge in him.

The hunters all looked at one another. Each one with their own bruises and bleeding skin. Well, all accept Garth.

* * *

Garth melted down the penny and went on his way, leaving the three and their heavyweight of tension between them. Sam was in the bathroom whilst Y/N sat on the bed and waited for Dean to return. With the blood drying on her skin and her bones sore from being tied up in the car for so long, she thought about the mess that was her life, and how the Winchesters were deep in it with her. Everything she had tried to avoid her entire life, was sitting in front of her. Her family, Bobby, was dead. Sam was far from her reach, pining for another woman and having left her and Dean to fend for themselves, and Dean trusted a vampire more than he trusted her. When Dean came into the room, ushering the other two hunters out and into the car, a thought in her mind was beginning to form. She stood in the door frame as the boys packed the car. But before she had a chance to let her thought simmer, Sam spoke first.

“For the record, the girl. Her name’s Amelia. Amelia Richardson. She and I had a place together in Kermit Texas.” Y/N looked between Sam and Dean, seeing the expressions on their faces in the dark night.  
“look man, I don’t even remember what I said but er…”  
“But what? You didn’t mean it? Please. We all know you didn’t need that penny to say those things.”  
“Sam…”  
“Own up to your crap Dean. I told you from the jump where I was coming from. Why I didn’t look for you.” Y/N watched the interaction between the two brothers and felt cold shivers go up to her spine. “But you had secrets! You had Benny! And you’ve been up on your high and mighty, kicking me, ever since you got back! But that’s over! So move on or I will.” Dean looked at his angry brother, finally laying down the lie and he found that he couldn’t argue. Not now anyway.  
“Okay.” He said to him. “I hear you.”  
“Good. You know hear this two. I might just be that hunter that runs into Benny one day and ices him.”  
“Well, I guess we’ll cross the bridge when we come to it won’t we.”  
“Yeah, you keep saying that.”

The brothers stared each other down for a few more moments before they both relented and stepped back. They had said their piece and it was time to move on to the next hunt. Sam opened the car door and stood to the side, waiting for Y/N to duck under the door and take her place in the back seat. But she didn’t move.  
“Y/N, you coming?” Dean asked her. He looked at how all the color had suddenly drained from her face as she looked at them with wide eyes. Then the words fell from her lips and both brothers felt the wind fly from their chests.  
  
“I’m not coming with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update my AO3 readers. I've had a rough few days and I forgot to turn the draft into a published chapter. Stay safe and well!   
> \- herstorybooks


	6. A Little Slice of Kevin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling the loss of Y/N, the boys try to carry on with their mission. But when Dean starts to see Castiel, he starts to question his sanity. Meanwhile, Y/N can’t seem to separate her life from the boys as she stumbles upon a missing Linda and Kevin Tran in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy update day my lovely little readers! Could this be the chapter we finally get the truth about Y/N's year alone? This is the last chapter update for the month of November, but fear not. One-shots are on the way to tide you over until December! Remember to stay safe and stay at home whenever you can! Sending love and health - herstorybooks.

It had been a week since Y/N decided to part from the boys. She wouldn’t tell them why she was leaving or what prompted it, she wouldn’t even let them give her a lift to her apartment. She just took off and hitched her way back to her abandoned car, her beloved Betty. She dropped Dean a message once she was back in her own vehicle and on her way to return to her flat, to put their minds at rest a little. But it didn’t make the separation any easier.

San had been moping around the cabin for days and Dean was starting to get irritable with him. But he’d told Sam he was moving forward, letting go of his anger at Sam’s walking away from their life. So instead of snapping at him and pointing out that a lot of this could have been avoided if he never abandoned Y/N, he went for a supply run.

He was blasting music and snacking on potato chips, happily in his own world. The roads were quiet and smooth and the sun was shining brightly. It was a good day. At least, that was what he thought at first. He didn’t think much of the man walking along the side of the road at first, not until he was close enough to make out his form. The dirty trench coat and black hair. Dean looked back as he drove past the man and would have sworn to any god that it was Castiel. He put his foot down on the break and hauled the car harshly. But looking in his rearview mirror, there was no Castiel, or man of any form. Just a sign informing drivers how close they were to Twin Peaks. Dean looked around with confusion. He could have sworn he’d seen Cas!

.

.

Sam was up and early, as usual, going through the mental checklist of his morning. Get up, go for a run, have breakfast, shower, dress, and get to work. Somewhere along that road Dean had gone for a drive, leaving him alone with his laptop and his thoughts. He looked over to the sofa he’d been sleeping on and saw on a side table a book Y/N had left behind. He sighed heavily with guilt. Checking his watch it was only 10 a.m. but screw it! He needed a beer.

Finally, settled and searching the internet, Sam stumbled upon a case for him and his brother. And just like magic, Dean returned with perfect timing.  
“Hey.” He greeted him, hearing the door open and close.  
“Hey,” Dean murmured. Sam looked over to his brother who was swaying in his spot and face lost of any color. “You look like you’ve seen…. I was gonna say you look like you’ve seen a ghost but you’d probably be stoked. You okay?” Dean mentally gave himself a smack in the face and pushed his worries deep down for another time.  
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He dismissed and wandered over to the fridge. “What’s up?” He asked, noting the number of new reports open on his brother’s laptop.  
“Well, this kid went missing from a pre-school.”  
“That sucks, and?”  
“And at the same time, a surprise tornado hit. Lasted around 20 seconds, then uh... Shazam! Back to perfect weather.”  
“And they poo-poo climate change.” Dean chuckled, getting himself a beer from the fridge.  
“Well, similar wackiness has been going on for weeks in other places. Tulsa, a bus driver vanishes and a lake gets overrun by frogs. A mailman disappears and the earth splits open.”  
“Alright, so you thinking Demons?” Dean asked, moving to stand by his brother’s shoulder to look at his screen.  
“Yeah, possibly. But, this stuff was major and these folks have nothing in common. No religious affiliations, different towns, all ages. Why would Demons want them?” Sam asked, still trying to fit pieces of the puzzle together.  
“Why do Demons want anything?” Dean countered. “So we on this?”  
“Yeah.” Sam agreed, shutting his laptop. “Hey, do you think…”  
“No.” His brother interrupted. Sam looked at him with a scrunched up face.  
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”  
“You were going to ask if we should call Y/N and get her help with this.” Sam slumped his body at his brother’s correct response. “Dude, she said she wanted to be alone!”  
“And you don’t think it’s weird she suddenly just took off like that? We still have no idea what’s going on with her. Why would she leave?” Dean fought back his initial answer. That she still had feelings for his little brother, despite his betrayal and the fact he was pining after another woman. Instead, he shrugged in his nonchalant way.  
“I dunno man, but you hounding her ain’t gonna make her come back any time soon.”

* * *

Alone in her apartment, sitting by her desk, Y/N was writing in her hunter's journal. The pent up emotions and frustration of leaving the boys had her itching to slice some monsters up. Luckily for her, on her way home, she caught wind of a werewolf causing havoc in a small town. Filled with anger, her hunt was brutal - for the wolf in question. She left with barely a scratch. Writing her hunt in her journal, her laptop made a ping sound! She looked up and saw a notification. Scrolling through the endless e-mails and messages from Sam, that she was currently ignoring, she saw an e-mail from another hunter friend of hers. There was no chit chat to respond with, all hunters she knew had finally taken the hint she wasn’t in the mood for conversing anymore. But they also knew she was good with witches. So they often sent cases her way. In the e-mail was a link to an online craigslist ad.

EXPERIENCED WITCH/WICCAN WANTED FOR SPELL WORK. - LIMITED QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. EMAIL FOR MORE INFORMATION at lindaT@hotmail.

“Really Mrs. Tran?” Y/N asked herself. Was this a trap? Surely Linda wasn’t so stupid as to put her e-mail out there, a beacon to Crowley and the other demons. “I better find you before Crowley does.”

* * *

It was late in the night, almost morning and the boys had used their day to get as much information and witness statements as they could. They interviewed the kindergarten teacher who was the last to see the missing boy alive. She was just as scared and confused as any innocent person would be. But the boys still had a feeling Demons had been involved somehow. Sam was asleep in the bed next to Dean. Since coming back from Purgatory Dean didn’t sleep much, so use the midnight hours to see if he could find anything else that would be useful. A flash of lightning from outside briefly pulled his attention away from the laptop screen and towards the window. He jumped out of his skin when outside, staring back at him was Cas.

He was gone within a blink of an eye. Dean leaped from his bed and went over to the window. There was no sign of him. The rustling and movement jolted Sam awake who saw his brother staring out the window with a face full of fear.  
“What’s going on? You okay?” He asked as he got out of bed.  
“no… I think I just saw something.” Dean admitted.  
“You saw what?”  
“Cas.” the heaviness of his brother’s answer pulled Sam closer to stand by his side.  
“Cas? Where?”  
“Right there,” Dean told him. “And… and early on the road. I keep seeing him.”  
“That’s… not possible. You said it yourself. You made it out and he didn’t right?” His brother gently reminded him. Dean lifted his shoulders to help carry to the guilt he was holding when he finally turned to look at his brother.  
“I tried so damn hard to get him out.”  
“I know you did,” Sam reassured him as Dean walked by.  
“You know, I could have pulled him out. I just don’t understand why he didn’t try harder.” Dean shook his head full of memories, still trying to make sense of the failed mission to rescue his friend.  
“Dean, you did everything you could,” Sam said, gently turning his brother to turn and look at him.  
“Then why do I feel like crap?”  
“Survivors guilt?” Sam guessed. “Look man, if you let it, this thing is gonna eat away at you.” Dean’s face wasn’t changing, it was still and steady with pain. Sam patted his brother on the shoulder and went to the bathroom. He couldn’t help his brother, but perhaps Y/N could.

Closing the door behind him, he took out his phone and dialed the number he hand rang about seven times the last week. The phone dialed out for about eight rings before the beep and recorded voice of Y/N met his ear.  
“You got the number, so you know what to do.” Sam sighed and hung up the phone. He’d already left so many messages.

.

.

Whilst the boys were hunting down a case, Y/N had been scrapping to trace Linda’s email. She’d learned a thing or two about computers being with the boys. She was still nowhere near as technical as Sam, but she was getting there. She would have just used a tracking spell, but not having anything of Linda or Kevins made it near impossible. But with hours of nonstop work, she’d find a trace of a wifi hotspot that the Trans had been using. She followed the co-ordinates and found an abandoned diner. Y/N parked up and decided to wait for a moment, assess the situation before running in and scaring the two off.

Her phone began to ring beside her. She looked even though she knew who it was. Who else would be ringing at this time of the early hours? She picked up the phone and saw Sam’s name in a harsh white light. She sighed sadly as her fingers hovered over the answer button.

Something caught her eye from outside and she quickly pressed the decline button. A young woman in leather and a short skirt was walking and knocking on the entrance of the diner. Y/N squinted and caught a quick glimpse of the woman’s face before she was let into the building.  
“Delta Mendosa?” She asked herself. She was a part-time witch who had a reputation and a tendency to get into trouble. She was harmless enough, only out for her own benefit. No plans to destroy the world or anything. But the look in her eye gave Y/N a bad feeling.

She stayed put, watching to see any more movement. A choice she would later make her scowl herself. She saw Delta walk past a window in the far end of the building, then walk back on herself and stare at the salt line protecting the window sill. Y/N saw her dripping hair and smudged mascara and chuckled to herself. Mrs. Tran was high on taking precautions. But her laughter was quickly shot down as she watched Delta take her hand and break the line of salt and smirk to herself.  
“Shit!”

* * *

“So it’s not just Americans that are vanishing!” Sam called out this his brother in the bathroom. “This guy disappeared walking between two subway cars in Rome.”  
“We going to Rome?” Dean asked hopefully, making his brother chuckle. “Not too shabby.” He finished washing his face and covered it was a towel to dry. When he looked back up at his reflection, a dirty and tired Castiel was staring back at him. He turned, almost expecting to see nothing before him. But Cas was still there.  
“Hello, Dean.”

.

.

“Unbelievable man! I can not believe you are actually here!” Sam exclaimed, staring at the seated Castiel across the table from him.  
“Yeah… I’ve been trying to reach out but for whatever reason, I haven't been able to reach full power. So, I couldn’t connect with you.” Cas explained in his gruff voice.  
“Must be why you kept seeing him, you think?” Sam asked his brother. Dean was standing, hoping height would make him feel more in control of this situation. But standing with his arms crossed and leaning against the wall did little to help him feel secure.  
“Yeah…” he responded. “Yeah, I don’t understand, how the hell did you make it out? I mean I was there, I know that place. I know how we had to scratch and claw and kill. It almost finished me.” Castiel continued to look down at the ground as Dean spoke, about the hardships they had faced the last year, and knowing the tole it must be taking on him. “So how exactly are you sitting was us right now?” Cas’s eyes shifted eyes as he sat up to brace himself.  
“Dean, everything you just said is completely true. And that’s the strange part. I have no idea. I remember endlessly running and hiding from Leviathan, and then I was on the side of the road in Illinois, and that was it.”  
“That was it?” Dean asked, still feeling out of the loop.  
“Yes,” Cas insisted. The uncomfortable stare from the boys made him eager to change the subject. “I’m dirty.” He pointed out, looking at his shattered appearance.  
“Well, Purgatory will do that to ya,” Dean replied, watching as Cas stood and disappeared into the bathroom.

When the sound of the shower came on, Dean turned to his brother. “You do see something severely wrong here, right?” He asked Sam, sitting in the seat Cas had just vacated. “Sam, I remember every second of leaving that place. I mean I remember the heat, the stink, the pain, the fear… I have a whole ugly mess up here,” he lifted his hand, pointing to his brain. “And he says he has no memory of how he got out? I’m just not buying it.”  
“So, you think he’s lying?” Sam asked.  
“I’m saying something else happened. I saw the shape he was in. There was no way he was fighting his ass out alone. No way!” Dean continued to insist.  
“Alright so, who… or what, got him out?” Sam placed his logical brain and thinking into the situation, seeing the emotional side owned by Dean.  
“Exactly,” Dean said with a sense of dread.

The sound of the shower stopped and Castiel stepped out of the bathroom in freshly cleaned clothes, smooth skin with no facial hair, and his black head hair trimmed nicely.  
“better?” He asked the boys who smiled politely. Then a strange look went across Castiel’s face. “Where’s Y/N?”

.

.

By the time Y/N got to the door, she could hear voices from inside the diner.  
“Hello, Delta.” Crowley's smug voice said.  
“Hiya.” Y/N heard Deltas immature casual tone quickly followed by Mrs. Tran’s mature and horrified voice.  
“You betrayed us!” Y/N listened to the story of how Delta grew quickly tired of Mrs. Tran’s nature and chose to bargain with the King of Hell. He clicked his fingers and Delta was gone, and currently, Y/N didn’t care where she ended up.  
“Kill her and take the other one for the spell,” Crowley ordered his goons.  
“No!” Kevin argued, ready to step up and fight for his mother.  
“Yes, say goodbye to mommy.” Y/N heard the click of Crowley’s fingers again and then the fearful moans of Linda.

She’d waited too long, damn it! She burst into the diner and saw a demon standing over Linda’s small fearful body. Y/N had to think quickly, she could kill the demon, easily, but then how would they find Kevin? They had to use him. Instead, she reached for her flask of holy oil and poured it onto her regular knife. She stabbed the demon in the back, not enough to kill him, but enough to make him more compellable. She poured the rest of the water onto his skin and got to work, skilfully tying him up and trapping him. She looked up and saw the tears of shock and relief on Linda’s skin.  
“What the hell were you thinking?” Y/N shouted at her. Linda’s mouth bobbed like a fish, trying to find the words to answer. Y/N lifted her hand. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got to call Sam.”

.

.

Castiel sat in front of the television, watching the channels change. He’d forgotten the simple pleasures of life on earth. Television really was something unique. The boys had given him brief headlines about the whereabouts of Y/N, but they were vague. All they told her was she wanted to be alone, (away from Sam, Castiel guessed,) and that they couldn’t get any information about her last year. She’d been hiding magic she’d learned and was acting very oddly. Cas didn’t know Y/N well enough to understand what would be odd behavior for her. So he let them worry about her for now. But he was fond of the other hunter, so kept her close in his mind.  
“It’s like it all stopped.” He heard Sam say to his brother. “All disappearances linked to unnatural weather events.”  
“So how many we got? Seven?”  
“yeah… Louigee, Justin, Aron, Maria…”  
“Denis, Christa, Sven.” Castiel continued reading out the list of names instantly, without moving his eyes from the television.  
“Wait, Cas? How do you know those names?” Sam asked.  
“Well, they’re prophets.” He answered as if it was obvious. “Angels instinctively know the names of every prophet, past, present, and future.”  
“So this is a list of every one of them that exists.” Dean guessed.  
“Yes, until the next generation is born. Plus, Kevin Tran. The other seven are future prophets. Since only one can exist at a time.”  
“Well, how can Kevin be a prophet if Chuck is a prophet?” Cas turned with a sad smile.  
“I don’t know what happened to Chuck, but he must be dead.”  
“So the next one comes off the bench when Kevin comes down?” Dean interjected, not sparing a moment of feelings for the old author.  
“Exactly, and they have no idea who they are of course.”

Sam thought for a second and then an idea popped into his head.  
“Crowley.” He concluded.  
“Insurance? Wow, he’s getting desperate.” Dean agreed.  
“Explains all the phenomena, low-level demons, and disappearances. The vessel of God’s word.” Sam’s thought process was cut short when his phone began to ring in his pocket. He lunged for it, hoping it was Y/N, but he didn’t recognise the number on his phone.  
“Hello?” Answered. “Mrs. Tran? Well, where the hell…. What?… Crowley’s got Kevin.”

* * *

Y/N had ushered Linda into the car once the boys had given her a marker to drive to. She’d told Linda not to mention her name, still hoping to delay the questions the boys were bound to throw at her. As she drove, she felt the worry of Mrs. Tran beside her and just sighed.  
“If you were looking for a witch, why didn’t you call me?” She asked the older woman.  
“You would have just turned us into the boys.”  
“Of course I would have, and I would have been right to Linda!” Y/N lectured. “You and Kevin did the worse thing you could have done by going on your own.” Linda stayed quiet, knowing Y/N was right but still wanting to defend her son’s choice to go it alone.  
“Why aren’t you with the boys? You didn’t want me to tell them you were coming.” Linda was eager to change the subject. Y/N looked at her briefly before sighing.  
“I reached my limit.” She admitted. “Being around Sam was too hard, both of them constantly asking questions I didn’t want to answer. I’m better on my own.” She said with conviction. Mrs. Tran looked at her like she was an alien.  
“You know that’s bullshit right?”

.

.

They all sat in the car, waiting to see Mrs. Tran’s car arrive. Dean was simmering away beside Sam, the presence of Cas in the back seat provoking memories and questions he needed answers to. Finally, Dean spoke up.  
“Cas I need to talk to you outside please.” They left the car, leaving Sam to wait on his own. He picked up his phone again, his hands hovering over Y/N’s number. They should let her know what was going on, right? But she hadn’t answered any of his attempts to communicate with her and Dean insisted they just had to leave her be. But he couldn’t. This time she was the one who left him, and he hated it. He still thought about Amelia, still hoped to one day have the normal life he managed to get a taste for. But this time, knowing for certain Y/N was alive and on her own, didn’t sit well with him this time. He didn’t have a distraction to keep him from missing her this time.

He saw the headlights up from above and knew now wasn’t the time to think about Y/N. But as the car came closer, he recognized the black paint and shape of the 1966 Mustang. He jumped out of the car and looked to Dean to see if he was seeing the same things as he was. The car stopped and the doors opened. First, they saw Mrs. Tran, then they saw Y/N.  
“Y/N?” Sam asked.  
“Castiel?” Y/N didn’t look at the boys, too shocked by the return of the fallen angel. “How…?”  
“Can we focus on the reunions later?” Mrs. Tran interjected. “My son is in the hands of that Crowley! You can do this right? Get him back?”  
“How did Crowley find you?” Dean asked.  
“She hired a witch,” Y/N informed them with an unamused face and crossed arms. “Untrustworthy witch who turned them in.”  
“A Witch?” Sam asked. “Why did you hire a witch?”  
“To make Demon bombs!” Linda told them. “These are Kevin’s notes.” She handed the book to Sam who quickly started flipping through the pages.  
“Any idea where Crowley took him?” Dean asked Y/N.  
“No clue,” she admitted. “But…” she turned and opened up her car boot, revealing the demon trapped inside. “This guy might.” Dean’s eyes sparkled, first at pride towards Y/N, then for his urge to rid the world of another abomination. He pulled out his knife and stepped forward to the demon.  
“Let’s talk.”

* * *

EXCLUSIVE PATREON SCENE. Y/N AND CASTIEL TALK: https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks

* * *

They followed the, now dead, demon’s instructions to an abandoned Warehouse in Arizona. The cars parked up and came up with a game plan. Y/N noticed Linda stayed in the car. She looked over and saw her complaining about being handcuffed to the driving wheel by Sam. If Crowley already had Kevin, he already had leverage to use, and putting Linda on the battlefield would just give him another weak spot to poke at.

The hunters quietly moved down to the lower level of the warehouse, surrounded by pipes and wired gates. As they walked, they came across a demon keeping guard. His black eyes patrolling the area. As he walked by, not seeing the hunters hidden in the dips of the wall, Y/N reached for Dean’s knife and lunged for the Demon. He fell to the floor with the wretched sound Demon’s made. The boys came to her side and gave her a fearful look. She shrugged at them.  
“What?” The boys could see the bubbling anger that was still in Y/N’s body. She was doing the very hunter typical thing of taking it out on monsters, acting first and thinking later. They were worried. “Come on, you find Kevin. We’ll look this way for the other prophets.” Y/N pointed to Dean, indicated he came with her, but Sam stepped forward.  
“I’ll go with her.” He insisted, not stopping to see her reaction.

They made it inside, the dark cold walls leaking with old water.  
“Y/N, listen…” Sam whispered. He was using that tone. That ‘I have something really important to tell you’ tone.  
“Not now Sam,” Y/N replied. “We already had that talk.”  
“No, I know. I’m not trying to talk about… that.” He continued talking, “I want to talk about you.”  
“Seriously? You’re doing this now?” She stopped to groan at him.  
“Well for all I know, you’re gonna take off once we get Kevin back, so yeah! I want to do this now!” He told her angrily. Y/N rolled her eyes and continued walking. “I get you’re still angry, and things are complicated for you. Whatever you’re not telling us! But running away, keeping everyone at a distance. I thought you were over that!” Y/N kept walking, trying to block out his words. “Y/N,” he grabbed her and turned her around by the shoulders. “Why are you running from me?”

His grip on her arms was tight, but it didn’t hurt. It was the closest and most intimate interaction the two had had in a year. They stood close and emotions were radiating off both of them. Sam’s eyes were pleading with her furiously and it almost pulled at Y/N’s heartstrings enough for her to tell him. She was fighting the battle between self-preservation and the possibility of finding her home again. She didn’t get to decide who won the fight. A shadow moved from the side of her eyes, pulling her attention to a door down the hall. She wriggled free from Sam’s hold.  
“We’re not doing this now.” She grumbled. “Let’s look in here.” She ordered, moving towards the door.

When they opened the door, they came face to face with two demons on guard. The demons looked at the two and immediately recognized the hunters. They stepped forward, to claim their lives, but luckily for the hunters they’d put Kevin’s notes into practice. With only enough to make one, they pulled out the only Demon bomb they had hidden in Sam’s jacket. Sam smashed it on the floor in front of the monsters and a bright yellow light exploded in the room. The heat was intense and washed over Y/N and Sam violently. But nowhere near as violently as the effects on the Demons. With their loud screams, the bodies disintegrated and disappeared. “Come on.” Y/N prompted, carrying on to the next room.

When they walked into the room, the metallic smell of blood attacked their sense.  
“Oh, no.” Sam winced. Blood was splattered all across a rounded table, seats vacant and no prophets to be seen.  
“We were too late,” Y/N said with sadness. But then heads started poking out from under the table. One by one, missing people stood up to announce themselves cautiously.  
“It’s okay,” Sam assured them. “We’re here to help.” Y/N saw the little boy stolen from preschool and ran to his side right away. Scooping his sad body into her arms, she felt him cling to her body and start to cry.  
“Shh, it’s alright.” She cooed to him. “We’re going to get you home.” She whispered before turning to Sam. “We need to get them to safety and let Cas and Dean handle Crowley.”

* * *

Dean and Cas completed their mission, they got Kevin back. They all met outside, out of breath, and relieved to see one another alive, if not damaged. Kevin and the tablet were missing pieces. Crowley had tortured Kevin, cutting off a finger to show him how serious he was. Castiel used what little power he had left to attack Crowley. He cowered and ran away before he could do any real damage. But during the brawl, the word of God was dropped and shattered in two. Crowley escaped with one half, whilst Kevin clung to the other.

Now Mrs. Tran was fussing and wiping blood off of Kevin in a typical motherly fashion. Y/N stood by to comfort him whilst Sam called the police to come to collect the missing people.  
“Cops are on their way,” Sam said, rejoining the group. “They’re gonna pick up the prophets. They’ll all be going home.”  
“Good.” Y/N smiled weakly, thinking of the trauma they must be feeling.  
“What about us?” Linda asked.  
“I called a friend,” Sam told them. “Garth.” Y/N smiled fondly.  
“He’s like us. Weirder I’ll admit but, he’ll look after you.” She told them. Linda nodded and turned to return her fussing to her son.  
“You guys get that it was hiring that witch, that got you into all this.” Sam lectured them, receiving a side-eyes glare from Mrs. Tran. “How are you holding up Kevin?”

“You kidding? Let’s seal those bastards up forever!” Kevin said with revenge on his mind. “They took my finger!”  
“Cas thinks he can fix that,” Sam told him. “In the meantime, just lay low until we get back to you okay?”

Sam and Y/N walked over to Dean and Cas. There was awkward tension between the men that they didn’t pick up on until they were already standing beside them.  
“hey,” Sam said quietly. “Everything okay?”  
“Yeah, just setting a few things straight,” Cas told them, glancing at Y/N with a pointed stare.  
“Okay, Garth is going to lay low with the Trans,” Sam told them. “But the tablet, we’ve all got to try and track down the other piece.” Castiel was staring past Sam, not present in the moment, for a second lost. “You’re with us on this one right Cas?” Cas wavered on his feet for a second before pulling himself back into the situation. “Cas you alright?”  
“Yeah…. uh… I’m fine. And yes I’m with you. If that’s okay.” He turned, asking Dean for permission. Dean nodded in a silent agreement. Cas walked away with his head hanging low.  
“That is okay, right? You too are alright?” Sam asked his brother.  
“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, before turning to Y/N. “What about you?” Y/N’s eyes went wide and her heart began to race as she felt the moment come over her.  
“I’ve got to tell you guys something.” She admitted.

* * *

They sat around a table, a quiet bar about to close. Y/N shot back small glasses of clear and strong liquid, feeling the boys expecting eyes on her.  
“You said you wanted to tell us something?” Dean prompted impatiently.  
“Right,” Y/N nodded, taking another shot. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you but considering angel boy over there is back, I don’t think I can keep it a secret for much longer.” Sam and Dean turned and looked at Castiel who continued looking straight ahead to Y/N. “Okay, so.” She said bracing herself. “My magic, it’s not mine.” The boys scrunched their faces, not understanding.  
“What do you mean, it’s not yours?” Sam asked.  
“Last year, when we all got separated. I tried to find you. I really did!” She insisted, looking at Dean. “I tried all the hunter tricks I knew, all the magic I knew! But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t find you, I couldn’t find Kevin, hell I couldn’t even find Sam!” She admitted loudly with shame. “So I started looking elsewhere.”  
“Magic?” Dean asked.  
“I started finding Covens, other witches, and tried to get their help. But word got around that I was a hunter and non of them trusted me. One coven tried to kill me.” She laughed. “Don’t worry, they didn’t.” Dean rolled his eyes at Y/N stating the obvious, the drink hitting her. “But it seemed I was making some noise and I caught someone’s attention.”  
“Who?” Sam was worried and it showed. He gripped his beer tighter and tighter with every word Y/N finally let fall.  
“A witch. I don’t know her name, I never even saw her face. It was all smoke and daggers.” Y/N gestured wildly. “But she offered me a deal.”  
“A deal! Are you nuts?” Dean asked angrily.  
“Calm down! Not for my soul!” She told him. “The deal was, she would copy and transfer all her magical knowledge over to me. But in exchange, I’d come to her when she called. She said a day was going to come when she needed witches on her side.”  
“Well, what does she want you to do?”  
“I don’t know. I just know, one day she’ll come for me and I have to go with her.” The boys looked at her with heavy worried eyes, letting the information sit in their stomachs. “That’s not all.” She told them.  
“What else could there possibly be?” Dean scoffed.  
“Well, she said she didn’t just want a hunter going around with all her magic. You know, in case I use it to kill her or whatever. So the magic kind of comes with… a parent lock. Every spell I cast gets reflected back onto me.”  
“That’s why you kept bleeding, passing out.” Sam realized. Y/N nodded.  
“The bigger the spell, the bigger the impact is on me. It wasn’t too bad at first, I used magic to turn a light on and all I could see for a second was white light. But then I used it on a demon hunt. I throw a monster against a wall, I feel the impact as well. They smash their head on the ground, I get a bloody nose.”  
“You destroy a God’s right hand and you nearly die.” Sam continued coldly.  
“Yeah,” Y/N answered. “I don’t know how to get this magic off and I don’t know how to find this witch. All I know is … this magic could kill me if I use a spell too powerful. The next spell could easily be my last.”


	7. Hunteri Heroici

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Cas now on the team, the hunters and angel come across strange string occurrences and things get looney!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna know a secret, I have been dreading this chapter! I love this episode so much but I had no idea how I would fit it into the story! Let’s hope I did a good job!

Stepping out of the car and stretching her legs had never felt so good! They had been on the road for hours, looking for their next case or somewhere to crash. With Castiel sitting on the seat beside her, Y/N couldn’t lay back across the back seat. The drive had begun with awkward silence, non of the boys knowing what to say to Y/N’s latest news. She was relieved not to be carrying her secret alone now. Now the boys knew the consequences of her magic, it saved the number of arguments and side glances they had been sharing. Right now, there was nothing anyone could do to help Y/N, she knew that. So they all agreed to avoid using magic at all costs and over time, they would find a way to save Y/N from the deal with a mysterious witch. The conversation was still an uncomfortable one to bring up

Dean disappeared into the Gas’n’Sip as Sam pulled out his phone to check up on Kevin and Mrs. Tran. Castiel leaned against the impala, reading over the newspaper in his hands. Y/N took a moment to smile fondly at the boys and stretch her limbs in the cool morning air. Things felt lighter.   
“Yeah, just call us whenever you find something,” Sam spoke down the phone, noting the return of his brother carrying bottles of drink. “Yeah… yeah! Of course. No, I… you know what! Dean’s here! He really wants to talk to you.” Sam swapped the phone for two bottles, handing one over to Y/N. Dean grunted as he accepted the phone.   
“Mrs. Tran! Yeah, I…” he quickly shut off the phone and threw it to his brother. “tunnel.” He sarcastically told the other hunters. “What’s going on in Tran land?”   
“Well Garth finally got them to his houseboat but Kevin’s having trouble just reading one half of the tablet.”   
“Garth has a safe houseboat?” Dean asked.   
“Dude I don’t even ask questions anymore.”  
“He got it in a police auction last year,” Y/N told them, taking sips of her drink. “Got it dirt cheap.” Dean and Sam both shook their heads and moved away from the conversation topic. Sam went to fill up the Impala with gas and Dean turned to the quiet angel.   
“What’s the word, Cas?” Dean asked, leaning beside Y/N.   
“It’s a shortened version of my name,” Cas explained flatly. Y/N and Dean both looked tiredly at one another.   
“He means what’s the word with angel radio. Any news on the tablet?” Y/N explained.   
“I couldn’t say. I turned it off.” Cas grunted, still looking over the words on the newspaper.   
“You can do that? Why?” Y/N probed.   
“Because it’s a direct link to heaven,” Cas informed them, folding up the newspaper and finally turning to the hunters. “And I don’t want anything to do with that place.”   
“So what now?” Dean asked. “Move to Vermont and open up a charming B and B?” He asked sarcastically. Case thought for a quick second before deciding Dean was joking and gave him the real answer.   
“No, I still want… I still need to help people. So I’m going to become a hunter.” He told them proudly. The hunters all fought back their sniggers and laughter at the bright optimist of the angel.   
“Really?” Sam scoffed slightly.   
“Yeah! I even found a case! Oklahoma City. A man’s heart jumped ten feet from his chest. Sounds like our sorta thing right?” He asked confidently. Y/N had to turn her back to Cas to hide the laughter on her face. She widened her eyes as she faced Sam and mockingly repeated the words ‘our kinda thing’ quietly to him.   
“He’s got a point.” Sam laughed, trying to ignore Y/N’s humorous face.   
“Excellent. I’ll see you there.” Cas turned to stride off before Dean called his name to stop him.   
“You wanna play cowboys and bloodsuckers that’s fine. But no zipping around crap. You stick with us.” He informed him sternly. “Capiche?”   
“Yeah, I capiche,” Cas replied like a moody toddler.   
“Let’s get going!” Y/N said cheerfully. All the men moved into action, heading towards the doors of the car.   
“Can I… err… at least ride in the front seat?” Cas asked hopefully.   
“no.” both boys said flatly. Y/N laughed at the innocently hurt face, off Cas as Sam moved him out of the way to reach his place in the Impala.   
“They don’t even let me ride in the front.” She offered him a comforting hand.

* * *

Dressed in their smartest FBI suits and the smell of chemicals and death in the air, the group of four stood around the autopsy table looking down at the dead body. A detective stood along with them in a grey pantsuit, talking them through what she already knew.   
“Coroner said his heart was ejected from his body. Got some air too. Found it in a sandbox.”   
“Any idea what happened detective?” Sam asked.   
“A lot of people are saying drugs agent Nash. An ass load of drugs!”   
“There are no drugs in this man's system, his molecules are all wrong,” Cas whispered to Dean. His voice carried to the detective, spiking her interest.   
“But you don’t think that?" Y/N asked her, hoping to pull her away from Cas’s odd comment. The woman shrugged before reaching for the white sheet that covered the dead man.   
“Never seen an eight ball do that.” She told them. As she revealed his chest, a perfect hole in the shape of a cartoon heart stared up at them in a bloody mess.   
“Who called this in?” Y/N asked, leaning down slightly to inspect the body.   
“A friend of his. Olivia Copel. She saw the whole thing.” The detective covered up the body again, just as her phone began to ring. “Oh crap, I gotta take this. Here’s the file on everything we have. Knock yourself out.” Sam took the file and began flipping through the pages.   
“Before you go.” Dean interrupted. “If anything else comes up, or anything weird. Give us a call.” He handed her a card which she quickly read and laughed.   
“Whatever you say, Scully.”

Now alone, Castiel’s voice grew louder.   
“I can’t sense any EMF or Sulphur. His arterial health is excellent,” he began leaning down and sniffing the body. “mmm. He did recently suffer from a mild… what is that? Bladder infection!”   
“Cas, stop smelling the dead guy,” Dean told him.   
“Why? Now I know everything about this man so we can…”   
“Did you know he was having an affair?” Sam interrupted, looking up from his file.   
“What?” Cas asked in confusion.   
“According to Olivia, they would meet every week at the park at 12:45. Walk to the moonlight diner where she always ordered a Caesar Salad, dressing on the side, they would chat about everything and she’d be back on the road by 1:30.” Sam smirked proudly, looking up.   
“You think she’s lying?” Cas asked.   
“There's too much detail. She’s rehearsed it.” Y/N explained to him.   
“Plus, we drove past the moonlight diner on the way into town. It's attached to the moonlight hotel.” Sam informed, his smirk still not fading.   
“Let’s say he’s on the prowl, but he’s playing is safe because he’s…” Dean lifted up the man’s hand and laugh when he saw the wedding ring. “Dude’s married. Doesn’t want anyone to see his ride parked outside a rent by the hour fleabag…”   
“So he stashes his car at the park across the street. And meets Olivia there.” Y/N finished.   
“Wife probably found out about it and it broke her heart.” Dean continued to guess.   
“So she breaks his. Sounds Witchy.” Sam finished.   
“Awesome!” Y/N beamed. “My area of expertise.”   
“Woah calm down there Sabrina,” Dean warned. “You’re on a no magic diet remember.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the big brother role Dean was taking but relieved that they weren’t ignoring the fact anymore. “Let's just go to interview the wife.”

They all turned to leave one by one. As the boys had left Y/N noticed Sam was still standing and staring into space.   
“Sam?” Y/N asked. Yet again he was lost to his thoughts and memories, not realizing she was calling his name. It took a gentle squeeze of his arm to get him to notice her. “You coming?” Y/N asked. Sam blinked quickly before painting on his smile.   
“Yeah, let’ s go.”

* * *

“I don’t understand. Gary had a heart attack. Why would the FBI…”   
“Parks government property.” Dean lied, trying to ease the suspicion of the widow with tears in her eyes and a red nose. “We just got a few questions for you.” Castiel then stepped forward, swinging his coat slightly and he turned his head so only the hunters could see his face.   
“I’ll take the lead with this. I’ve done some research, I can crack her.” Y/N went to object, having a very bad feeling about the amount of confidence Cas seemed to have, but he was already leaning over the table and talking to the wife in a terrible attempt at a New York accent.   
“Now, Ms. Freeling. I don’t wanna bother you, I really don’t. But I do have one question for you…” he went quiet, before slamming his hand on the desk and yelling in the woman’s face. “Why did you kill your husband?”   
“Agent Stills! A word please.” Dean dismissed, pulling him away.   
“What?” He asked innocently. “I was being a bad cop.”   
“No, you were being bad everything!”   
“Please excuse our partner.” Sam offered as he and Y/N went to sit opposite the wife.   
“Yeah, he’s… going through some stuff.” Y/N hinted.   
“Listen to Sam and Y/N,” Dean told Cas as they went back to the scene.

“What we mean to ask is… is there any chance Gary had secrets. Something he was hiding?” Y/N offered.   
“Hiding? Like what?” Before anyone could answer there was a knock on the door and the sound of heeled shoes crossing the floor and into the kitchen. The wife stood up at the sight of the young blonde and held her in a tight embrace as they both cried. “Olivia.”   
“As in mistress Olivia?” Dean asked the group.   
“This is awkward,” Cas observed.   
“I'm sorry but, what did you think Gary was hiding?” The wife asked, turning back but keeping a comforting arm around the younger girl.   
“That he was sleeping with her,” Cas said bluntly, pointing at Olivia. The hunters all looked at him, ready to apologize and give an innocent explanation.   
“I know.” The wife said, pulling their attention.   
“You know?” Sam asked.   
“Gary and I, we… had an arrangement. He was seeing Olivia and I was spending time with our neighbor PJ.” Feeling a sense of awkwardness, Olivia looked down at the food she had brought over.   
“I’ll go put this in the kitchen,”   
“I’ll help.” The wife offered, wanting to be away from the shocked eyes of the agents.   
  
“Freaking suburbs man!” Dean exclaimed excitedly.   
“So she’s not a witch,” Y/N concluded, slightly disappointed.   
“Just the best wife ever!” Dean smirked, looking through the door at the two women.   
“So what killed her husband?” Cas asked.   
“Who gives a f…”   
“Dean!”

* * *

They got the call as they left the wife’s house. Earlier that day, a man had jumped from a building - tragic but not odd. At least that’s what they thought at first.

Sam took a quick look over the side of the building's roof before turning to the rest of the group.   
“looks like suicide.” He told them.   
“It was, the guy left a note. He invested everything in Roman industries and lost it all when they crashed and burnt last year.” The detective told them.  
“So why call us?” Dean asked.   
“I have two witnesses that swore the guy floated in the air for a good ten seconds, then he looked down, then splat! Not sure I buy that, but the way they’re talking it’s like something right out of a…”  
“Cartoon.” Dean finished.

From across the roof, the detective was called over, leaving the hunters and angel alone to talk. “She’s right you know,” Dean told them. “The whole heart beating out of the guy's chest, the delayed fall. That’s straight-up Bugs Bunny!”   
“So we’re looking for some sort of rabbit insect hybrid?” Cas asked. “How do we kill it?”   
“No, we don’t, Cas.” Sam laughed.   
“It’s the name of a cartoon character.” Y/N finally spoke up. Sam took a quick look over at Y/N. Using her moment of distraction to study how dark the tired bags under her eyes currently were.  
“They’re little animated movies.” Dean tried to educate the angel. “You know, the chayote chases the roadrunner, and then the anvil gets dropped on his head.” Dean chuckled to himself.   
“Is it supposed to be funny?” Cas asked.   
“No, it’s hilarious!”

.

.

Finally checked into the hotel, Dean and Sam sat at the table, researching over books and laptops. Cas sat at the end of the bed, glued to the television and watching cartoons. Y/N chuckled as she left the bathroom, shrugging off her blazer and kicking off her boots.   
“I get it!” Cas exclaimed.   
“What do you get, Cas?” Y/N asked, flopping down onto one of the other beds.   
“The roadrunner is god. The chayote is man, chasing the divine but never being able to catch him… it's hilarious.” Dean sighed at Castiel somehow missing the points of cartoons aimed at kids. Y/N laughed and leaned forward to see the boys across the room.   
“Any luck?”

“I have no idea what we’re hunting.” Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Maybe it's a Talpa maybe it's a god with too much robot chicken. I mean is there a link between heartbreak hotel and free-falling?”   
“Not that I can find,” Sam said heavily.   
“Well then I’m gonna call it,” Dean announced, shutting the books. “Cas, you gonna get a room?”  
“No, I’ll stay here,” Cas told him, beginning to look through Dean’s toiletry bag.   
“Yeah okay, we’ll have a slumber party. Braid Sam’s hair and Y/N can give us facials. Where are you gonna sleep?” He asked sarcastically.   
“He’s an angel Dean, he doesn’t sleep.” Y/N reminded him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the fridge.   
“Well I need my four hours so…”   
“I’ll watch over you.” Cas offered kindly. Y/N smiled at the innocence of Castiel and the sudden uncomfortable nature of Dean.   
“That’s not going to happen.” Dean objected.

Suddenly Cas stood from his spot, his hand reaching up to focus his mind.   
“Somethings coming through the police scanner.” He told them. Y/N stood closer to Cas, putting a hand on his shoulder, worried he was in pain.   
“You can pick up on that?” Sam asked.   
“It’s all waves…” Cas explained. “A bank has been robbed. It sounds loony.”   
“Define Loony.”

* * *

A heavyweight was sitting in the middle of the bank, underneath a pile of blood, guts, and a pair of security uniform shoes.   
“that’s loony alright,” Sam observed, looking down at the mess.   
“Agents, I was just about to give you a ring.” The detective throughout this case walked into the room and spotted them. “Gotta ask, do you guys chase the crazy, or does the crazy chase you?”   
“Depends on the day,” Sam answers humorously.   
“Who’s the pancake?’ Dean asked.   
“Security guard. He called in reporting a robbery but by the time we got here…”   
“A robbery?” Y/N asked. This was the first time they’d heard of theft in this case.   
“It looks like the Black Hole was trying to jimmy open a security deposit box when the guard found him. And well, you know how that story ends.” The hunters grimaced, looking around the scene.   
“The Black Hole?” Y/N asked again, hoping for more information.   
“It's our name for a bugler running us ragged. He’s a pro. No fingerprints, no sign of forced entry. Just a pair of those every time.” The detective turned to point out two black holes plastered on the side of the walls. “Like he’s signing his work. The perp's never done anything like this before, obviously.”   
“Would you mind if we took a look over your files about this guy?” Y/N asked.   
“No skin off my nose. I’m off to the station now if you want a ride.”   
“Yeah, great thanks.” Y/N nodded.   
“I’ll come with you,” Sam said eagerly. Following Y/N’s tail and leaving Cas and Dean to look over the crime scene some more.

* * *

Sitting at a table, surrounded by files and maps, Sam and Y/N looked over the information given to them by the detective. It was a comfortable silence with the odd ruffled of papers or a sip of cold coffee. Sam studied the way Y/N leaned on her elbow, her hair falling along her shoulders as she scrunched her face in concentration as she read. She’d been in higher spirits since telling the boys all about her secret. But that did little to reassure Sam. Y/N had been a rollercoaster to him these last months. At first the pure anger she felt towards him, then the attempting of being civil. This sudden relaxed nature following her taking off was just another consequence of the last year on their friendship. But now not only did he have to worry about her eventually forgiving him, but he also had to worry about her health, her life. Every time she cast a spell, it was like she was throwing it onto herself. And one day, it would take just one spell to finish her off. And if it didn’t, she still had a debt to pay to this mysterious witch nobody knew anything about. And yet she was acting fine. But the purple bags under her eyes were slowly making their way to the surface.

“How are you Y/N?” Sam asked randomly. She look-up with confused eyes as she studied his face.   
“Peachy.” She smiled.   
“You sure?” Sam asked suspiciously.   
“What’s this about, Sam?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms. Sam sighed heavily before answering.   
“You’re not concerned about all this magic? Or the price you have over your head?” Y/N knew what Sam was trying to get out of her. That she was putting on a brave face when really she was dying inside. That she needed someone to lean on. Whether that was true or not, she wasn’t going to tell him. She’d chosen to move forward, to truly not be mad at Sam anymore. But that didn’t mean she was ready to go back to the way they were. Before they went after Dick and they stared lovingly into each other's eyes, stealing kisses whenever they got the chance. That had changed and he just had to accept that.   
“Nope.” She said cheerfully, looking back down to her files.   
“Y/N…”   
“Look at this.” Y/N interrupted, taking a file and turning it around to show Sam. “Isn’t this house just across from where Gary died?” Sam shook his head, not sure why he was surprised she was deflecting. So he went along with it, his attempt at reaching out failing. He looked at the map and nodded.   
“Yeah, why?”   
“The Black Whole robbed it around the exact same time as Garry’s death!” Sam looked over the past reports and noted a similar pattern earlier that day.   
“He robbed this place around the same time the guy jumped from the roof.”   
“And it’s just down the road. We should make some calls.”

* * *

Around every burglary the Black Whole had completed, the area was surrounded by cartoon crazy. A jogger bumped his head and a four-inch lump appeared. A kid walked into a wall and heard birds tweet. For fifteen minutes, the whole area was a living and breathing cartoon. The same amount of time it takes to complete a robbery. Whatever power the Black Whole was using to rob the houses and banks, they had no control over. It was just a proximity effect. All of this explained the deaths, just collateral damage. Looking back over the files they noticed that every building targeted, belong to someone now living in the Sunset Field Old People’s home. Their next stop.

They entered the yellow-painted room, the old smell and sound of coughing attacking their senses. The room was filled with elderly people going through arts and crafts, daily activities to get them through the day. A man with a portable breathing mask walked past them, making Dean stumble back in horror.   
“It’s not that bad.” Y/N wined at him.   
“You can’t tell me this place doesn’t give you the hebees or jeebies.” He told them. A man in a grey suit and a stern face stepped up to them to acquire about their presence.   
“Can I help you?” He asked. They all showed their badges and received a more relaxed attitude for the man. “Doctor Dwight Mahony. I run Sunset Fields.”   
“We need to question your residents,” Cas informed him.   
“Why? About what?”   
“Grand larceny, mostly.” Y/N smiled politely. The doctor looked taken back but nodded.   
“Of course. By all means, ask away. If there’s anything I can do ask away.”

They all separated to interview each person in turn. Right now, Cas, Dean, and Y/N sat around a table talking to a white-haired woman, making gooey eyes over Castiel.   
“You were so pretty, Charles.” She beamed.   
“that’s not my name,” Cas said awkwardly. The woman was taken from her trance and realized her mistake.   
“Oh! You look so much like my third husband!” She told them. Y/N and Dean both looked at one another, fighting back the laughter.   
“We’re here to talk about the robbery, ma’am.” Dean finally told her.   
“Robbery?” The old woman asked confused.   
“The one the police spoke to you about,” Y/N explained gently. “A few days ago? Someone broke into your house and stole your jewelry and bearer bonds you stashed under the floorboards.”   
“Oh, my diamonds! Yes!” The woman remembered. “I hid them there. I’m sorry Charles, I didn’t trust you.” She turned her words back to Castiel, who looked at her confused. “You were quite the bounder.” Y/N and Dean smirked as Cas tried to get the woman back on track.   
“Did you tell anyone about where you hid your bearer bonds, Mrs. Tate?” Cas asked.   
“I don’t think so… but then again I get a little fuzzy sometimes.”   
“Have you noticed anything weird lately?” Dean asked. “Cold spots? Smells?”   
“Well… there’s the cat.” The woman told them, pointing behind them. They all turned and saw a ginger cat being petted by another man. “He talks sometimes! Really hates that mouse.” Y/N and Dean looked at each other. If this was any other case they would pass it off as old age insanity. But considering the theme of this case and the similarity to another famous cartoon, it wasn’t something to be ignored. Castiel sat upright, his face set with purpose.   
“I’ll interrogate the cat.” He told them.

Y/N laughed as she watched Castiel stand and head towards the cat. As Y/N watched the odd scene before her, Dean carried on talking to Mrs. Tate, Y/N scanned the room and watched as Sam stood by a board, staring off into space again. He had that sad look on his face. The lost puppy dog eyes made her want to reach out a hand. It made not wanting to feel anything for him a lot harder. Eventually, Dean stood up, walking over to him, and interrupted his thought process. As he did Y/N turned and went over to stand by Cas and watch him attempt to communicate with the feline. He was unsuccessful but refused to give up.

“Guys, let’s go,” Dean whispered over to them.   
“I’ve almost cracked him.” Cas insisted. Y/N just laughed and patted his back.   
“Come on big guy.” She chuckled and walked off with the boys.

“What you find?” She asked as they walked the halls.   
“an old friend of our dads. Physic.” Dean told her as they walked into a room. On a television, cartoons were playing loudly and an old man with white hair and blue pajamas sat in a wheelchair, lost in a trance as he watched.   
“Mr. Jones?” Sam asked. “Its err… Sam Winchester.” Sam tried to communicate as he crouched down before him.   
“Fred?” Dean asked louder. There was no response. He turned off the tv and clapped loudly, but still nothing.   
“So you think this one man is causing all of these shenanigans?” Cas asked.   
“Well if he is, he’d be surrounded by a circle of crazy right?” Y/N asked. Dean shrugged as Sam stood back up. Y/N saw a book on a table and smiled. “I got an idea!” She told them. She picked up the book and whacked it across the back of Dean’s unsuspecting head. The sound of chirping birds filled the air as Dean wined and shook his head. “I spy crazy!” Y/N sang proudly.   
“But how?” Cas asked.   
“Fred’s got the juice! An average psychokinetic can move things with his mind but a guy like Fred, get him worked up he can reshape reality.” Sam explained in a hushed whisper.   
“How do we flick his off switch?” Dean asked.   
“I don’t know. I don’t think he even knows we’re here.” Sam said soberly.   
“Do we… kill him?” Cas asked.   
“Excuse me, agents. Did he just threaten to murder one of my patients?” They turned around and saw Doctor Mahony look at them in disgust before exporting them out of the home.

“Real frigging smooth!” Dean groaned as they made their exit.   
“We don’t have to leave him. I could teleport him.” Cas offered.   
“This dude is all juiced up, Cas. You try and teleport him, who knows where he’d end up.” Y/N warned him.   
“we’ll circle back tonight. Grab him nice and clean.” Dean ordered. “You go invisible and keep an eye on him, you hear me?” They heard the shuffling sound before turning and noticing Castiel’s disappearance.  
“He heard you,” Y/N told him.

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE! SAM TELLS DEAN HE'S WORRIED ABOUT Y/N. READ ON PATREON  
https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks  
_

* * *

They rushed back into Sunset Fields later that night. Sam went to check on Fred as Y/N and Dean met up with Casitel.

“Good, you got my message.” He greeted them. They looked around at the splatters of exploded cake on the walls.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, looking at the pink frosting.

“There was a pastry mishap.” The hunters looked at the angel for stating the obvious.

“Okay, and?” Dean prompted.

“The frosting reached supersonic speed, I thought…”

“Hey, Fred’s gone.” Sam ran up to join them.

“Way to keep your eye on the ball Cas!’ Dean scolded.

A nurse started wheeling Mrs. Tate past them and notice their presence.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” She told them.

“Oh trust me, sweetheart. You’ve got bigger fish.” Dean quipped.

“Charles, she’s wearing my diamonds.” Mrs. Tate piped up to Castiel. The nurse tried to wheel her away but Cas grabbed onto her arm.

“Wait!” He ordered, lifting up her wrist to reveal a diamond bracelet. “This is Mrs. Tate’s bracelet. Where did you get it?” The woman looked over to Y/N, looking for female solidarity maybe?

“Answer the question.” She told her.

“My boyfriend gave it to me.”

.

.

They broke into the apartment the nurse had told them to go to, the home of her boyfriend. The lights were all turned off. As they darted their flashlights around the rooms, Dean saw a pile of bearer bonds.

“maybe these belonged to Mrs. Tate.’ He told them, holding them up.

“So this man is our thief,” Cas concluded.

“Looks that way,” Y/N said, looking further into the room. As she looked, she saw a pair of legs poking out from behind a sofa. “Guys.” She called to them. They all followed her flashlight and saw the man there. They rounded to see a passed-out man with blood all over his gut. Dean flicked on the light switch, waking the man up.

“Cas.” Dean prompted him to heal the gunshot wound in the man’s stomach. Castiel bent over the man, who looked up at him with fear in his eyes.

“Move your hands,” Cas told him. He did and watched with shock as Cas’s hand glowed brightly and healed his wound. He lifted up his shirt and saw the lack of damage.

“How did you…”

“Sam, let’s get him up.” Dean and Sam lifted the man up and put him on a chair before he had a chance to argue.

“What did you do to me?”

“Hey! Listen. Where's Fred Jones?” Dean ordered, looming over the stunned man.

“he took him.”

“Who’s he?” Y/N asked angrily.

“Doctor Mahony! That guy's evil man! He’s using Mr jones!”

“How?”

“Look all Fred does is watch cartoons but he’s magic alright. A few weeks ago I smashed my foot in his door and I smashed it flat, I mean flat!” He rambled on erratically. “Then I shook it, it popped back up! Like something from a cartoon or whatever.”

“Yeah, we know.” Dean groaned, impatient for new information.

“So I told Doctor Mahony, so we started doing experiments. We just wanted to see what he could do!”

“What about the robberies?” Sam asked.

“Oh, Mahony’s been scamming of Sunset Fields for years. Most of those folks have stuff stashed away, like off the books. So Mahony would track down the loot and we’d take Fred for a drive.”

“Right, where you used his bubble of weird to rip people off.” Dean sighed. “How’d you end up gunshot?” He asked.

“After Mahony killed that guard he started freaking out, then you guys showed up, then the cake exploded in the day room and he lost it!”

“What does that mean? He lost it?” Y/N ordered.

“He’s heading back to the bank for one last score. Docs blowing town! He said Fred was a loose end and that he was going to kill him. I… I liked the guy so I said if he hurt the guy I’d go to the cops. I didn’t know that he had a gun.”

“We gotta get to that bank,” Y/N said with wild eyes.

* * *

They parked up down a side street behind the bank, knowing the doctor wouldn’t be trying to gain access from the main entrance. Shutting the doors of the car the group walked with purpose, ready to split up and complete their mission.

“Jones has got to be close,” Dean told them. “Me and Y/N will check out the bank, you two see if you can find him.” They split up, Cas and Sam taking the main streets whilst Y/N and Dean went down an alleyway.

As they walked, they came across a brick wall with a round black circle painted on it.

“Dean, look.” Y/N stopped him, pointing to the markings. Dean stepped forward, his hand hovering in the air before pushing it through, testing the waters of the cartoon entrance. “Cool” Y/N laughed as his hand went through. Dean laughed along with her.

“Awesome.” He smiled. “Right, after you.” He waved a hand and Y/N smiled gratefully.

“Don’t mind if I do.” She hoisted her leg over and stepped into the black hole. Her body felt odd and light for a quick second before she continued to walk and stepped into the interior of the bank. Dean was quick behind her, shaking his limbs at the weird sensation. “Ready?” Y/N asked him in a whisper. He nodded and they both took out their guns hidden behind them.

They walked slowly and quietly through the steel building, hearing shuffling and groaning somewhere in the distance. They followed the sound and sure as anything, they found their thief. The doctor was busy making wholes and pulling out security boxes to fund his escape.

“What’s up doc?” Dean asked, stepping forward and pointing his gun. Y/N followed suit, inwardly rolling her eyes at his need for a clever line. The doctor stared at the couple with a stern stare.

“You let me walk and half of this is yours.” He offered them. Y/N scoffed, looking down at the loot.

“I think we’ll pass. Not really into ripping off sweet old folk.” She smiled sarcastically.

“I’m not stealing from them, I’m stealing from their children.” The doctor tried to convince them. “Little bastards think they can drop their folks at an old people's home and visit twice a year, maybe! I took care of all these old geezers, I think I deserve…”

“We don’t care!” Dean interrupted, not buying into his pathetic pity party.

“Fine.” The doctor shrugged. “Have it your way.” He lifted a stack of documents and threw them at the hunters, pushing and knocking them over in their escape. On the ground, the two scrambled for their guns. Dean attempted to shoot at the doctor, but instead of a bullet, a red flag with the words ‘bang’ came out instead. Y/N looked at it in shocked confusion. “Welcome to the funhouse.” The doctor laughed before running off.

Scrambling to their feet, the hunters ran after him into the main area of the bank. Dean leaped from his feet and practically flew in the air, landing exactly on top of the doctor. They glided along the floor dramatically. Y/N stumbled to a stop and watched the carnage. She watched as the doctor pulled out a frying pan and whacked Dean across the face. Hearing the cartoon noises Y/N was stunned, seriously not being able to believe what she was watching. The doctor continued whacking Dean until he fell to the floor.

“Dean!” Y/N called, finally sparked into action. She ran to crouch by his side and help him sit up.

“Give up?” The doctor laughed. “I’ve been dealing with this crazy for months. “Idiots! Bringing guns to a joke fight.”

“Yeah? You know what else we brought?” Y/N sneered, moving to stand up to her full height. Turning her wrists slowly, a warm glow began to build in her hands.

“Y/N, don’t,” Dean warned. The doctor looked at Y/N, surprised for the first time in weeks. The glow and power in her hands grew bigger and bigger, waiting to explode.

“What are you?” He muttered. Y/N smirked.

“I’m a witch…. Bitch!”

“Y/N, no!”

“Impello!” She screamed, wiping her hands and throwing the ball off light towards the doctor. The doctor went flying across the room. But the power that vibrated off his strike, bounced off and pushed Y/N and Dean across to the other end. Dean was able to stumble up rather quickly, only taking the residual effects of the blast. But Y/N stayed on the floor coughing heavily.

The doctor watched the two warily before grabbing his duffle bag and running towards the black hole on the wall. His body crashed against the surface and he fell back onto the floor. Dean smiled, knowing his brother and Castiel must have succeeded in finding and calming Fred down.

“Looks like somebody turned off the boob tube.” He smirked.

“Good. That means I can use this.” The doctor pulled his gun out of his jacket and pointed it at Dean. Y/N was still on the floor, head dizzy and unaware of anything happening around her, helpless at coming to Dean’s rescue.

“No!” Dean turned and saw Fred Jones, standing upright and pointing his hand at the doctor. The gun turned by itself, no longer in control of the man holding it. Sam and Cas stood behind Fred, looking at the scene. Sam scanned the room before realizing Y/N was flat on the floor, her breathing croaky and struggling to sit herself up. He ran to her side and crouched before her.

“Y/N! What did you do?”

“You are not going to hurt anyone, ever again!” Fred yelled. He focused his mind and forced the doctor to change the direction of the gun. He tried to fight it but he was unable to stop the gun from pointing towards himself and setting off the trigger. The bang was loud and filled the room heavily, followed by Dean’s sarcastic voice.

“Well, that’s all folk.”

.

.

Y/N took her time awakening, but within ten minutes or so, she was sitting upright and aware of her surroundings. She took in the dead body and pale Fred Jones and put two and two together. Sam followed her stare, still holding her up by the shoulders.

“Fred, you good?” He asked. Fred nodded.

“Now I’m good. In a week? A month…” he sighed sadly. “No one gets sharper with age. I’m going to lose control again and somebody's going to get hurt. again.” He sighed, looking at Y/N on the floor. He didn’t know her, but he knew all of this were the consequences of his powers. “You gotta make it stop.”

“There might be a way.” Castiel gruffly said. “The procedure will be painful and when it's over, I’m not sure how much of you will be left.” Fred took in his words, breathing heavily before steadying his stare.

“well, what are you waiting for?”

* * *

Back in the old people's home, the group stood around a sitting Fred Jones, staring blankly at the walls, with a slight smile on his face.

“Is he okay?” Sam asked.

“he’s listening to Ode D’Joy,” Castiel told him, watching the old man close his eyes blissfully. “He’s happy.” Cas smiled and reassured them.

“We should get going,” Y/N whispered. Dean nodded and turned to Cas.

“Cas, you get to ride shot gut, you did good!” Cas shook his head in response.

“I’m not coming. I can’t come. I err…” his eyes seemed to glaze over as his sentence disappeared from his lips.

“Cas? Why can’t you come with us?” Sam asked.

“I err... I want to stay with Mr. Jones. Someone should watch over him for a few days to make sure he’s okay. Just in case.” Cas stuttered his reply.

“Okay, then what?” Dean asked.

“I’m not sure what,” Cas told them. “But I know I can’t run anymore.” He moved his eyes to Sam who was again lost to the world he was in. Y/N squeezed his arm.

“Sam?” She asked, calling him back. He looked at her, coming back to reality, and nodded.

.

.

Walking out of the home, they walked up to the Impala. Y/N went to grab the door handle but Dean’s hand slammed in her way.

“What?” She asked confused.

“We gotta talk.” He said to her. “What you did back there. Stupid.” Y/N slumped her shoulder, wondering when this argument was coming.

“You could have gotten yourself killed Y/N.” Sam chirped in.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” She argued. “I don’t know toon town like you two but I do know magic.”

“And you know what happens when you use it.” Dean countered angrily. Y/N shook her head and straighten her spine.

“Okay,” she said sternly. “I appreciate the worry. But this is my problem to worry about! I know the consequences and it’s my decision to decide if it's worth the risk. This is exactly why I didn’t tell you in the first place.”

“Y/N,” Dean attempted to scowl.

“No,” she stopped him. “You two don’t get a say in this. This is my cross to bear! And I'm managing it. So enough is enough.”


	8. Citizen Fang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are running high between the group as Sam puts a somewhat questionable hunter on the job of watching Benny. When dead bodies begin turning up, Y/N is torn between her responsibility as a hunter and her trust in Dean’s judgment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely little readers! This episode was again heavily focussed on Benny and Dean. And as much as I loved that storyline, we’re here for Sam and Y/N, right? Or at least that’s what I came to write. So this chapter is rather shorter than some of the others. But it’s still drama-filled and emotionally overflowing. I hope you enjoy it! Stay safe and healthy! Sending love and health - herstorybooks.

Standing by the hatched window, Dean and Y/N waited for their order of food to arrive. Y/N leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, tiredness aching over her body from her last use of magic. Dean in no subtle way gave her a side-eyed once over. Y/N rolled her eyes at him and sneered.  
“I’m fine.” She said bluntly. “Just caffeine-deprived.”  
“If you say so,” Dean mumbled as their food finally arrived. Y/N took the drinks whilst Dean grabbed hold of the burgers.

Opening and sliding into the car, the two were met by a frantic Sam talking down the phone to an unknown caller.  
“Just hang tight until you hear from me.” He said down the phone.  
“Who is it?” Dean asked in a whisper. Sam lifted his finger to silence him.  
“No, I said just hang tight!” The other end of the call hung up and Sam groaned with worry. “We gotta get.” He told the other passengers.  
“Can I at least finish my burger?” Dean moaned. Y/N hummed in agreement as she lifted her coffee cup up for display.  
“We’ve got a vamp kill, guys. Louisiana.” Sam said gruffly. Dean smiled and began to nod.  
“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve had some Muffuletta.” Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes.  
“Of course your mind goes straight to food… although Italian Salami would be good right now. Who’s the source?” Y/N asked. Sam turned his head to look at Dean.

“Martin Creaser.” Dan stopped his movement to double-take at his brother.  
“I’m sorry for a second there I thought you said, Martin Creaser.”  
“Who’s Martin Creaser?” Y/N echoed.  
“He’s an old friend of dads,” Sam said emotionlessly,  
“Crazy Martin from the Loony Bin!” Dean countered. Y/N slumped into her seat. All of John Winchester's friends seemed to be driven to insanity.  
“He got discharged last month.”  
“And?” The brothers argued. Y/N sat back and enjoyed her coffee, waiting for the bickering to be over. “Shouldn’t he be assembling toys in a padded room? What’s he doing back on the job?”  
“I asked him!”  
“You what?”  
“he called me when he got out. Asked if there was anything I could put him onto.” Y/N’s eared picked up, half-listening to the squabble but still not completely invested. “He seemed okay, mostly, so I said yes. I’ve had him tracking Benny for the last week.”

Y/N sat back up in her chair, leaning over into the front side of the car. Now she was invested.  
“Benny?” Y/N asked. The two brothers were locked in a staring match, Dean in silent shock.  
“You put mostly okay Martin, on Benny?” Dean asked in hurt. Sam nodded.  
“Wait, why you letting anyone with loose marbles hunt at all?? Y/N questioned.  
“He’s not hunting! He’s tracking!’ Sam insisted. Y/N pulled a face as if that was any better. “Observe and record only, I was crystal clear!”  
“Wow, I can’t believe that.” Dean shook in disbelief.  
“Really? You don’t believe that? Because Benny’s a vampire and any hunter worth his salt wouldn't let Benny walk around freely. So I had Martin keep tabs on him, and right now, it’s looking like I made the right call.”  
“Martin’s certain it was him?” Y/N asked, hoping her simple question wasn’t going to lead to an attack from either of the brother.  
“Yeah,” Sam stated. The car was quiet for a moment until Dean spoke up one simple word.  
“Okay.”  
“Okay?” Y/N asked, expecting more resistance.  
“If Benny’s in Louisiana draining folks, we should look into it.” The brothers continued their staring match, waiting for the other to relent even though a game plan had already been agreed on. Y/N groaned at the testosterone filling the car and leaned over to turn the radio on.  
“Let’s drive then.”

* * *

After yet again, an award car ride, they made it to Louisiana. They parked up outside some grubby hotel and made their way inside. Y/N braced herself for a new element of crazy to enter her life as they waited behind the wooden door and waited for Martin. The door swung open before Sam had a chance to knock and a wild-eyed man with a bald head stared at them.  
“You said lookout for an eruption. How about Mount Vesuvius.” They walked in one by one, looking at the brick walls of an obsessed hunter, papers and pictures everywhere. “I got into town a week ago, nothing, he’s been clean.”  
“Doing what?” Dean asked. Y/N followed Sam to the other side of the room, feeling somehow lost and vulnerable.  
“Minding his own business, working at the gumbo shack.”  
“Benny’s working at the gumbo shack?” Dean repeated.  
“Yeah, slamming hash, pouring coffee, the whole bit. And folks around here call him Roy, who’s she?” His muddle of words and the constant stream of sentences finally stopped when Martin finally registered the new member in the room. Y/N looked up, realizing she had been spotted.  
“I’m Y/N.” She told him.  
“She’s a friend,” Sam told him. Martin looked between the two standing by the window and chuckled.  
“Oh, I get it.” he laughed. Dean shook his head to Martin’s apparent humor.  
“No, you really don’t.” He mumbled under his breath. “Martin, you sure you’re running on a full charge?” Martin looked away from Sam and Y/N and made awkward eyes at Dean.  
“Yeah…lil…lil…little shock therapy in the morning and I’m good to go.” He clicked his fingers in the air dramatically.  
“Tell us what happened last night,” Sam said.  
“I followed him home, just like every night. But then he turned up a path and I heard a scream. Then, boom! There he is! The old Koop the guy was eyeballing at the joint. Vamped!”  
“Did you see Benny kill the guy?” Y/N asked, feeling the offended stares of both Martin and Sam. She ignored them.  
“I saw enough.” Martin defended.  
“How can you be sure it was Benny if you never saw him do it?” Dean asked this time. Martin began to ramble over his story again, tripping up of words but the story staying the same. “There’s a lot of holes there Martin.” Dean chirped.  
“Holes? The only holes we should be looking at are in the victim's neck!”  
“That sounds like the Benny you know?” Dean turned to his other hunters.  
“We don’t know Benny,” Sam answered for them.  
“The Benny you know?” Martin asked in shock. “What? Why am I getting the distinct impression that your brother is vouching for a vampire!”  
“Guys, let’s not argue.” Sam tried to calm the shouting.  
“No ones arguing,” Dean announced. “If this is Benny, and that’s a big if…”  
“Oh, it’s him.”  
“I got history with the guy! Okay? I’m not signing up for a witch hunt, I owe him more than that.” Dean turned his argument towards his brother and friend, trying to convince them not the just rush into blaming these deaths of Benny. Y/N nodded, he was right. She felt uncomfortable with trusting a vampire, and the truth is, she didn’t. But she trusted Dean.  
“How much time do you need?” She asked, knowing he would want to go off on his own first.  
“You’re not actually considering this?” Martin stepped forward defensively.  
“A couple of hours, tops,” Dean answered, ignoring Martin’s protest.  
“And what if it turns out to be Benny?” Martin shouted.  
“Then I’ll deal with it!” Dean replied angrily. Sam finally stood, taking the calm approach between Martin and Dean.  
“A couple of hours Dean, no more.”  
“I’ll be in touch.”

Dean left the apartment, Martin following behind to close the door.

“You two are joking right?” He asked the two. “We’re doing this once he pulls away.”  
“no, we’re not,” Y/N argued. “If Dean says he needs time then we’re gonna give it to him.” Martin baffled at the woman, waiting for Sam to step in and argue. But he didn’t he was busy staring off into space again. Y/N sighed and sat down on a chair, it was going to be a long couple of hours.

.

.

Those hours went by at a slow uncomfortable pace. With every second that ticked by Y/N began to question Sam’s sanity, for trusting and allowing this shell of a man to take lead on a case, or tracking as he called it. Every few seconds Martin would twitch or mumble to himself. He wasn’t ready to be out fighting their fight, to go against monsters and vampires. What was Sam thinking? She knew what he was thinking, that his brother trusted a vampire more than him.

When Dean finally walked through the door a few hours later, everyone shot up out of their seat, ready to hear his tale. Dean found Benny who told him he’d been laying low. Working an honest and subtle job that led him to no trouble. At least that’s what he thought before an old friend from his past turned up one day. Another Vampire named Desmond wanted to build up a new nest, and have Benny join him. When Benny refused, Desmond began leaving a trail of bodies until he changed his mind. Dean himself found Benny burying the second victim.

“Let me get this straight, I follow your boy down a frigging path and trip over fresh vamp kill. Then you practically catch him in the act and you still want to give him the benefit of the doubt.” Martins words came out in angry flashes, followed by ramblings. Dean crossed his arms and sighed.  
“Vampires pick people off from the outskirts of town, okay?” Martin disagreed with his statement and began hitting a block of ice he’d taken from the freezer. Everyone looked and slowly saw a burst approach. “Not in the cafe’s that they work in! With their great-granddaughter!” Dean continued, turning his attention to Sam and Y/N. “In fact killing any human, it’s not his style.”  
“Not his style? Not his style?” Martin muttered in disbelief.  
“Listen, Dean, we came here on a dead body. You asked for some time and now we have another dead body. We just going on trust here?” Sam asked in an authoritative yet patronizing tone to Dean.  
“yes,” Dean stated simply.  
“Because we’ve killed for a lot less.” Sam pointed out. “And you know how these things turn out for us.”  
“Yes, too well!” Dean spat. “In fact, every relationship I have ever had has gone to crap at some point. But the one thing I can say about Benny is that he has never let me down.” Y/N twinged at Dean’s words and watched how Sam scoffed at his brother.  
“Well good on you Dean. You finally found someone you can really trust after all these years.” He said bitterly.

Y/N finally had enough, standing up from her spot and breaking her silence.  
“Okay, enough. We’re not going down that path. Not right now.” She told them, looking at their stubborn faces. “We have two dead bodies and whether it’s Benny or this Desmond guy, a rogue vampire on the loose.”  
“Benny is innocent,” Dean repeated. Y/N was willing to give in to Dean. She trusted him and knew that he wouldn’t live in denial when innocent people were getting hurt. She turned to Sam, hoping he would show some compassion to the creature that helped his brother get out of Purgatory, at least until they actually saw him about to sink his teeth into another victim's neck. Sam didn’t think for long before coughing, shaking his head, and standing.  
“No, you’re too close to this.” The boys both squared their shoulders, the only buffer between them being Y/N.  
“You’re not going to find him. And even if you do, you’d be lucky to get out alive. And you…” he turned to a silent Martin, whose quiet shuffling was making Y/N anxious. “You go with him, you’re a dead man. period. Dean looked down at Y/N. “The only way you’d survive Benny is using your magic and we all know how that would end. Either way, you wouldn’t make it out either.” Y/N screwed up her face and looked up at the man.  
“I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, trust your judgment.” She told him angrily. “And you’re gonna make snide remarks at me when innocent people are dying and the only proof you have is Benny’s word?” She shot. Dean matched her stare before noticing the movement behind him. As he turned he saw Martin club him around the head and knock him unconscious. Y/N and Sam both flinched back at the recent attack, as Dean hit the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Sam shouted.  
“Dean made his choice. Let’s go do our job!”

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE: Y/N AND MARTIN GET INTO A FIGHT_

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

* * *

They stood around the abandoned parking site. Benny’s truck was long gone, leaving only muddy tire prints that lead to the open road. With machetes in hand, Y/N walked back into the open space after following the trails.  
“He’s gone. The trail stops at the road.” She told them coming to stand beside Sam.  
“Something spooked him,” Martin informed them. Y/N shook her head and looked up at Sam.  
“He shouldn't be here, Sam. He’s not in the right space of mind.” She whispered to him. Sam looked down, knowing she was right but refusing to give way. The sound of a buzzing phone came from his pocket and Sam picked it up. When he looked at his screen he froze. The icy fear in his eyes caught Y/N off guard. “Sam? What is it?” She asked. Sam didn’t move but didn’t fight her when she reached to see what was on his phone.

Amelia Richardson

Sam, I need your help.

Come quick.

Y/N looked up at Sam and surprised herself. “Let’s go.” She pulled him by the sleeve, forgetting about Martin and the issues with Benny.  
“W…What?” Sam stuttered. Y/N shot him a look. Yes, this could be awkward and yes, this is the woman who managed to have Sam’s heart after he fled from Y/N. But if someone was in trouble, someone Sam cared for and loved, how could she argue? Sam didn’t take too long to argue before following her tug and jumping into the car and speeding off towards Kermit Texas.

* * *

Sam hadn’t said an entire word during the journey, he would occasionally look at his phone, try to call Amelia and fail. Driving up the street Y/N felt a pang in her chest, knowing this was the place Sam called home for a year. Where that stung in her heart, she knew the pain would be even more intense for Sam, returning and seeing it carry on without him. The road was quiet and seemed undisturbed. There was no sign of trouble or any fights. Y/N’s senses told her nothing was wrong. But attempting to communicate that with Sam right now would be pointless. He cocked his gun and left the car. Y/N sat for a moment trying to decide if it was her place to follow. In the end, she decided that if Amelia was in trouble, if some monster had her trapped, Sam was going to need back up. So she climbed out of the car and followed him close behind. They walked along the back of the house, guns high and stepping quietly. There was a light on in the house, a cozy sign of life. They crept up to the window, just out of sight, and peeked through. Y/N watched as Sam lowered his gun and his eyes began to fill up. On the sofa sat a man in a checkered shirt. He was watching television as a woman with dark curly hair, Amelia, walked in and passed him a beer. She sat beside him, cuddling up under his arm, and smiled in content. Nothing was wrong. Amelia needed no help. This was just another form of torture for the man standing beside her. Y/N couldn’t find the words to comfort Sam, she couldn’t find any words at all. So she stepped away and left him staring into the window.

With a heavy furrow in her brow, Y/N reached for her phone.

“Hello,” Dean answered.  
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Y/N’s tone was stiff. She heard Dean sigh before answering.  
“I needed you guys to back off so I could handle it.”  
“And torturing your brother was the way to do this? Dean, he’s crushed!” Y/N shouted down the phone before checking her volume.  
“Does he know it’s me? You gonna tell him?”  
“I don’t think I’ll need to,” Y/N said coldly. It would only be a matter of time before the penny would drop and Sam would realize what had happened. Dean didn’t say anything, holding what he thought was the moral high ground. Y/N saw Sam approaching and uttered a few more words before hanging up. “You ever do anything like that to me, we’re done.”

Sam said no words, just opened the car door and sat in the seat with a confused look on his face. Y/N followed suit and sat beside him, silently waiting for him to move into action. After a few seconds, Sam turned the key and drove off.

* * *

Y/N didn’t look too shocked when the car pulled into the bar parking lot. She followed Sam as he slammed the door and took his sorrowful spot on a stool. As the drink arrived in front of them, Y/N’s heart broke for Sam as she looked around and saw couples dancing together to music. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other for at least an hour now. Y/N worried to say the wrong thing or make this situation worse for Sam. He kept gazing off and going over thoughts in his head. She sighed heavily, gulping down her drink as she watched him pass his phone from one hand to the other.  
“Check her number.” She said without looking at him. He turned his head to question her but she didn’t meet his gaze. Y/N just kept her gaze forward and at the wrack of alcohol behind the bar. He followed her instructions, looking over the text again before checking the details of Amelia’s phone. He looked at the number and shook his head.  
“You knew?” He asked angrily.  
“Not until we saw her and she was fine,” Y/N said simply, not having the energy for an argument, and knowing Sam would need his strength for the argument he was about to have with Dean. Sam looked at Y/N, using his hand to turn her face and study at her. She looked at him, shocked with the brutal action but steadied her gaze. She was telling the truth and the more Sam looked at her, the more he knew that. He nodded his head and let her face go and turned back to his phone. He dialed the number, silently praying it wouldn’t be his brother who picked up.

“Sammy?” Dean answered.  
“Sam, I need your help. Come quick…. Nice one.” Sam replied bitterly. “Swapping out Amelia’s phone with a burner, sending out a distress signal. You got me good. When you do that?”  
“While back in case I needed it. Looks like I made the right call. Guessing Y/N told you. Did you see her?”  
“Yeah,” Sam said painfully. “Yeah, I saw her. She’s doing just fine. Of course, you already knew that.”  
“Actually I didn’t. I did know it was the only way to get you to lay off and I knew Y.N would follow you.” Sam laughed, finding it almost humorous that his brother would manipulate him like that.  
“So, is it done?”  
“Yeah, it's done.”  
“Any casualties?”  
“Martin.” Sam winced, scrunching his face at the death of a man who shouldn’t have been allowed to go hunting in the first place.  
“Was it Benny?”  
“He had it coming, Sam. I’ll tell you what happened…”  
“I know what happened, Dean!”  
“You wanna listen to me or not?” Sam hung up the phone before Dean had a chance to tell his story.

“What happened?” Y/N asked. Worried at the amount of anger on his face. “Let me guess, Benny got Martin?” Sam nodded before picking up his phone, downing his drink, and throwing money on the table. He stood and got ready to leave. “Sam wait,” Y/N attempted. But it was pointless. Because when both she and Sam turned around, they were met with the face of Amelia. She didn’t pay attention to Y/N, just stared at Sam with upset and emotional eyes.  
“I knew that was you.” She told him.


	9. Torn and Frayed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas reaches out to Y/N and Dean when a fellow angel needs rescuing from Crowley’s capture. Meanwhile, Amelia gives Sam an ultimatum that would officially change the dynamics of our trio forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I put my pen down after planning this chapter, I was so excited to write it! Every day after writing another bit more I did a little dance. The power and angst in this chapter gave me more happiness than it probably should have. It’s the last chapter of the month, and officially the year! So read it slowly, enjoy and get ready for the next phase of the story in January. Also, I’m taking suggestions for the title of the next story in the series. I have a few ideas but I want to know what you guys think. Unless there’s a title I REALLY REALLY like, all suggestions will be put into a poll for my Patreons to vote on in the new year, and we’ll see what the answer is. Sending love, health, and merriment for whatever (if any) holiday you celebrate this time of year. Stay safe and at home if you can. - herstorybooks

Sam sat on the sofa, nursing a beer and staring blankly at the motel wall. Y/N shuffled about around him, packing her bag and setting up arrangements to make her way back to the cabin and meet up with Dean. Amelia ran out of the bar before Sam had a chance to explain his story, but not before Amelia caught a brief glimpse of Y/N. When they checked into the motel room Sam was as usual, stoic and quiet. It took only half an hour of awkwardly sitting across from him, waiting for him to say the next word before Y/N decided she needed out. This high emotional situation had nothing to do with her, not really. This was Sam and Amelia’s relationship, her being there made no effect on his emotions. It was a harsh wakeup call Y/N didn’t realise she needed. She thought she was fully awake and aware of the complicated situation she found herself entangled in. She convinced herself her logical and hunter brain was what pushed her alongside Sam to check on Amelia’s welfare. But now seeing the pain and hurt in his eyes, she realized it was the silent hope that her presence would have made a difference. She downed her beer and started looking for the cheapest car rental service, not having the energy to steal a car tonight. She’d head back to the cabin, ring Dean on the way and take it from there.

As she did this, Sam’s mind was passing over the last twenty- four hours over and over again. He felt lost from his brother. Dean was trusting the one thing he’d been trained never to trust. And to make it even worse, he trusted Benny more than himself. It was hard to see Y/N naturally trust Dean’s instincts, take the benefit of the doubt approach towards Benny. It was shocking even. When they first met Y/N, she was business and no pleasure. She hunted alone, she stuck to fact and avoided relationships. Yet somehow she found herself hooked into the messiest and now she questioned her judgment more and more every day. Nothing felt familiar to Sam anymore. He hadn’t returned to the hunting life he knew, not really. He could almost laugh at the irony. He wanted to run away from that life, and in a way he did. The Family Business was not what it used to be. All the confusion and uncertainty only made him long for that life with Amelia even more. Civilian life. A modest nine to five job, a bold and funny woman to love and live with. A dog to care for and a house to maintain. It was the exact opposite of what he had grown to know. Now he was at a crossroads. On one side was the everyday white picket life. The other was what he reluctantly referred to as his life. Hunting monsters, dealing with world saving events, and the most complicated relationships with short life spans. His duty. He had been standing between the two for far too long and he could feel the eruption that would throw him into one or the other coming. And he knew, whichever he chose, he would be leaving someone in pain because of it.

When the knock on the door came, both Y/N and Sam looked up. Perhaps that eruption had arrived? Both of their thoughts immediately went to Amelia. Had she come back? Y/N stood stiffly, watching as Sam hovered at the door. If this was Amelia, she was going to need to hit the road quicker than she thought. The awkwardness and the heart aching pain it would bring her, to stand in the same room as the couple, she thought it could kill her. When the door opened and instead they saw the gruff face of Dean, she sighed with heavy relief.  
“Who did you expect?” Dean asked, walking past Sam into the motel room. He glanced around the room and looked questionably at the teary and tired eyes greeting him. Y/N looked off, offer than usual. Sam slammed the door and coughed, making Y/N jump.  
“Long drive.” He stated.  
“Yeah well you didn’t give me much of a choice,” Dean told him, turning to face him. “After having you hang up on me.”  
“I hear everything I needed to hear.”  
“No you heard what you wanted to hear.” His brother told him. Y/N sat her bag down and moved to stand in-between the boys.  
“What happened?” She asked Dean.  
“Benny wasn’t killing,” Dean told her. “Hell, I watched him dice the vamp that was!”  
“How about Martin?” Sam interrupted. “How did he end that?”  
“Stupid, just like I said it would. Son of a bitch didn’t give Benny a choice, he was acting in self-defense.”  
“But he’s fed? For the first time in how long?” Y/N asked worriedly. Sam ignored her voice, focussing on the anger he felt on his brother, and talking over her.  
“Seriously Dean? That’s the story you’re going with? That the vampire was the real victim here?”  
“Like it or not it’s the truth. There was a time when that meant something.”  
“Yeah, yeah. No kidding.” Sam answered with bitterness. Y/N sighed and the confusion on Dean’s face. He still didn’t get it.  
“What does that mean?” He asked.  
“You think this is just about Benny?”  
“What are you talking about,” Dean asked.  
“Amelia, Dean. He’s talking about Amelia.” Y/N told him, not to judge. Not taking sides, just stating facts.  
“Amelia?” He asked, looking to Sam with amused shock. “Oh come on man, I sent you that text because I need you…”  
“You needed me to do what? Haul ass to Texas? To worry that what happened the Jessica, what happened to everyone we cared about had happened to her.” Sam began to pace, the way he didn’t when the energy and frustration were too much to contain in a still body.  
“You were going to kill Benny. What was I supposed to do?” Dean said tiredly.  
“Is that where we are? You save a vampire by making me believe that the woman I love might be dead.” That word right there, stung more than Y/N thought it ever could. She didn’t think anyone would notice the sudden stiff nature of her spine, the way her breath caught in the back of her throat. Well, Sam didn’t. Dean did. He glanced towards her and the second his eyes met hers, she felt the tears approaching. She went to the bathroom before Sam had a chance to see.  
“nice,” Dean muttered to himself, watching the door slam behind her.

She turned the lock in the door and leaned over the dirty motel sink. She silently let her tears fall and drip into the basic as her heart was being squeezed by the bones in her body. What was she doing? Why was she here? How could she hold so much anger towards a man she felt so much love for. A man she thought at one point or another felt the same way, and perhaps one day would feel it again. But she was a hunter, a witch and everything he wanted to run from. He wanted normal civilian life and that was something she could never give him. It was something not even his own brother could give him. No wonder he was running. She let out a few more quiet sobs before wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her top and blew her nose with toilet paper.  
“Y/N?” Dean called, knocking on the door. “You want a ride?” She laughed to herself through a snotty note and red eyes. Thanking whatever god had just sent her this escape route. She opened the door to Dean’s still face. His lack of emotional somehow comforting. He lifted his hand to pass her her jacket. Her bag was already at his feet. She smiled sadly and took the jacket and followed him out of the motel room, not able to bring herself to look towards Sam as she left.

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE: Y/N AND DEAN GET DRUNK_

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

* * *

The next morning Y/N and Dean were both slumped in chairs in the cabin. A bottle of beer still in Dean’s hand and Y/N crawled up into a ball beside a bottle of tequila. Both were sleeping off what was bound to be a heavy hangover. Y/N would have stayed in the dark blank nature of her mind for the rest of the day if she could, but when she heard the gruff grunts of Dean it brought her back to the harsh and far too bright light of reality.  
“Damn it Cas!”  
“Woah… what! What?” She mumbled as she jolted awake. Y/N’s eyes shot open, her body in its natural state of attack. She jumped when she saw Cas staring and looking down at the two.  
“How many times do I have to telly you? It’s just creepy!” Dean complained to the angel.  
“I need you help.” Cas skipped the pleasantries, getting straight to business. “The angel Samandriel has been taken.”  
“You mean Alfie?” Dean asked. “The Weiner on a kid stick?” Y/N groaned and put her head in her hands. She was far too hungover for this.  
“Yes,” Cas confirmed “I err…heard his distress call this morning.”  
“On angel radio? I thought you shut that down?” Dean asked, rubbing his eyes through his own hangover.  
“My penance has been going well and I thought it was time to turn it back on. I’ve err… been helping people.”  
“Well good for you,” Dean grunted, standing up and nudging Y/N in the process. Urging her to shake it off and get back into the zone. She looked up at him angrily but subsided it when she saw the look on Castiel’s face. She sighed and stood, heading straight towards the sink to fill up a large glass of water. “Alright, well who snatched Angel’s most adorable angel?”  
“Crowley,” Cas answered heavily. Y/N groaned loudly, ducking her head into her body again.  
“I’m way to hungover to deal with that!” She protested.  
“We’re listening,” Dean interjected and rolling his eyes.  
“Samandriel is being held in the general vicinity of Hasting Nebraska.”  
“General vicinity? That’s all you got?” Dean asked.  
“Yes, that’s why I’m going to need your help. It seems this is going to involve talking to people.” Y/N uncoiled her body and shook herself into action. She headed towards the table at sit by the laptop. Dean chuckled and moved to stand beside here.  
“Come on Cas, I thought you were a hunter now?”

“I thought so too, but it seems I lack a certain…”  
“Skill?” Y/N suggested as she opened the laptop.

When the lid opened she was met with a bright pink screen and an asian woman posing boldly on the cover. Y/N shut the laptop quickly, the sound of a gong attacking her eyes. She looked at Dean who went bright red and simply took the laptop from her.  
“You didn’t see anything.” He told the other two in the room. Cas averted his eyes as Dean reopened the laptop and went about closing the sites. Y/N groaned again, dropping her head on the table.  
“When did you even find the time?”  
“Shh…” Dean silenced her. “Alright! What am I looking for?” Dean asked.  
“Well when you torture an angel, it’s screams and pain create a kind of ripple effect. Strong events… where’s Sam.” Y/N lifted her head and moved to get a better look at the screen, trying to ignore the name she just heard.  
“Sams gone,” Dean explained. “We’ll find Alfie ourselves.”

* * *

Sam couldn’t even recall how much he moved over the night. He was currently still sitting in the same spot, watching the same television as the night before. Y/N was gone, leaving with Dean. He was left with a six pack of beer and his own confusing and dark thoughts. When the knock came at the door, he told himself it was probably Y/N, coming back to convince him to make things right with Dean. When he opened the door, the wind was blow out at him as Amelia’s face stared right back at him.  
“Look last night at the bar, I just wanted to make sure it was you,” Sam’s mouth twitched as his brain scrambled for an explanation. Amelia smirked and stepped through the door. “You know, peeping through my window.” Sam scoffed and closed the door.  
“Peeping? You make it sound so…”  
“Stalker-ish?” Sam reached for the remote to turn of the television. “Anyway I ran out because he was leaving. He travels a lot since he’s been back.”  
“No I get it, you had some place…”  
“I had to be. Yeah. Are we going to have this whole conversation with me finishing your sentences.” Sam tried to fight back the smile his lips naturally took. He’d missed Amelia’s bold and funny ways. “So why are you here?” His smile dropped now.  
“it’s not what it looks like. I thought you were in trouble… that you….” He laughed at the odd face she was pulling at him. “It doesn’t matter, you’re okay.”  
“I was.” She told him. “Okay. You know, settled in, content. But here you are. What am I supposed to do with that?”  
“Give me five seconds and I’ll be gone. I didn’t come to make trouble for you. I can because…”  
“You cared?” Amelia stepped forward, felling her body naturally drawn towards the man in front of her. “See that? I just did it again. Finished you sentence.” She whispered as she carried on stepped forward, not standing right before him.  
“Yeah, I care.” Sam accepted. Feeling his head haze over with the memory of the simple and joyful life he had, teasing with the idea of it returning.  
“I care too,” Amelia told him, before their lips crashed against each other for the first time in months.

* * *

In the Impala Y/N took the odd place of sitting in the front passengers seat. She was in her formal get up, wearing tailored trousers, not her skirt. She looked back at the angel in the backseat, watching the trees go by in the window. They drove to the hospital and made their way into the burns unit. They found their way to Mr Hinkley’s room and tried not to stare at the red blistering skin that peeks through white bandages.  
“Mr Hinkley?” Dean knocked before they entered. “Hi err… we’re here from the Geneva Gasset. We’re here to ask you a few questions about your, ambush.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she took out her pad and pen.  
“Please forgive me college’s poor humour.” She groaned. The man had reported being attacked by an exploding bush that caught on fire randomly.  
“I’d laugh too if it didn’t feel like the sun hadn’t just ate my face.” The man said through sensitive and burnt lips.  
“It’s a metaphor.” Cas pointed out. Dean checked his approach and apologised.  
“Now in the police report, you say the bush talked to you, yeah?”  
“Yeah, I know it sound crazy but yeah.” The poor man answered.  
“What did it say?” Cas asked.  
“No clue. Sounded klingon to me.”  
“We’re going to need exact words,” Dean told him.  
“Are you serious?” Cas leant forward to inspect the expression on Dean’s face to give clarification for the man.  
“That’s his serious face, yes.” Dean and Y/N both looked at the angel oddly before turning back to the man.  
“It’s important we get 100% accurate facts,” Y/N explained sweetly. “As much as you can remember.” She smiled.  
“Sounded something like… Sol Vak? yeah. Sol Vak Tay.”

.

.

They walked through the halls of the hospital, readying their exit.  
“What do you think?” Dean asked. “Mean anything to you?”  
“Yes, it’s Onokian. It means obey.” Cas explained to the hunters. Y/N shuddered at the word obey, knowing that never meant anything good, or willing.  
“Obey what?” Y/N asked.  
“I don’t know. But the amount of pain an angel must be in to manifest through shrubbery, let alone burn. We have to find him before it’s too late.” Cas said, stopping their walking tase to show the serious worry he felt.  
“Okay, well an event like that. He can’t be too far?” Y/N guessed.  
“Right, we’ll just start at the bush and make our way up?” Dean agreed.  
“And look for what? Crowley could have him anywhere?” Cas countered.  
“Well if I know Crowley, he’ll have the whole place surrounded by Demons. So we’ll just drive until we see ugly.” Dean smirked before walking off. Y/N stopped Cas with an amused look on her face.  
“What’s my serious face?” She asked jokingly. Cas studied her before lowering his voice.  
“Right now you’re using your fake happy face. The one when you’re in pain but don’t want anyone to know.” Y/N’s smile dropped, ready to defend herself. “there. That’s your serious face.” Cas told her before walking away.

* * *

“It’s official, I hate motels.” Amelia stood in the bathroom doorway, wearing only Sam’s shirt and looking across the room off him in the bed, entangled in bed sheets. “Say something.” She asked of him, when he met her comment with silence.  
“What would you like me to day? That was great, that was a mistake?” He said in a low tone, the hazey mist starting to clear and reality making its way back through.  
“Both, I guess.” Amelia shrugged awkwardly. Sam shifted to sit up.  
“I understand.” He said simply.  
“Do you?” Amelia asked, moving to sit on the bed, facing Sam. “Do you understand that I have a life here? A good man that loves me. I man I don’t want to hurt.”  
“I know.”  
“And do you know that you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning? And the last thing before I go to sleep. It’s tough to let something like that go. Especially if you keep showing up here.”  
“Are you saying you want me to leave?” Sam asked, trying to hide the hurt.  
“I’m saying if you decide to stay, against everything, I would be with you. But if you leave, don’t come back. I can’t have you one foot in my life and the other out there, doing whatever it is that you do.” Sam looked away, scoffing to himself. “That life of yours I know nothing about.”  
“You don’t wanna know, trust me.” He looked back. “It’s a big step.”  
“For me or you?”  
“both.” Amelia smiled sadly at him. “I need to think about this. You need to think about this. Word will never describe what you mean to me. What you’ll always mean to me. But we should…”  
“Think about this.” Amelia nodded. “Does this have anything to do with that girl with you at the bar?” Sam sat up, shocked Amelia had even noticed Y/N.  
“Y/N? No she’s just a…” the words wouldn’t fall from his lips. She was more than a friend, he knew that. She was complicated. He sighed. “She’s my old life.”  
“Are you two together? Were you together?” Amelia asked, wondering if Sam understood her situation more than he ever let on. Sam shook his head. He wanted to lie but he knew it wasn’t fair. Amelia always laid her cards out on the table for him. It was only fair he did the same. “Because when you saw me, you turned to look at her like you’d been caught doing something really bad.” She said quietly, not accusingly, just calmly. Sam almost laughed, not evening noticing that he’d done that.  
“For a while, it looked like we were heading that way. But when I lost my brother… I ran. Not just from my old life but from her.” Amelia sighed and looked down at her hands.  
“Okay, how about two days from now? Around 7:30. I’ll be off work then. One of us will be here and we’ll know. Neither of us will be here and we’ll know. Or both of us will be here, and we’ll know.”

* * *

It had been a day of visiting every abandoned factory or building in the area. One after another, covered in dirt and graffiti. Abandoned cars stood rusting and stationary, homeless people gathered round fire pits trying to keep warm from the cold. Everyone they they had been to, they’d been able to get close enough to inspect, a clear sign Crowley had not chosen that venue for his little Angel kidnapping. The day was long and repetitive and all were growing weary of the lack of results. In the car they drop, locating the next one on the map. They pulled up behind a wired gates and took in the same picture they’d seen all day. Dying plants, rusting cars, graffiti walls and homeless men around a fire.  
“Well would you look at that!” Dean said cheerily, trying to keep energy high. “Our ninth abandoned factory. Welcome to America.” He chuckled to himself before turning to Y/N. “What you say if this doesn’t pan out we head back to the beer and pancake joint a mile back huh?”  
“Are you always thinking about your stomach?” Y/N laughed.  
“Wait a minute, look!” Cas interrupted, leaning forward from the back seat to get a closer look at the scene. “Those men, they’re demons. I can see their true faces.” Dean lifted his binoculars and took a proper look. There were not only homeless men gathered at the front, there were men in black coats patrolling the doors.  
“If Crowley’s got that many demons outside, he’ll have double in there,” Y/N told him.  
“And angel warding. I can feel it.” Cas shuffled in his seat. Y/N turned back and saw the uncomfortable face he sat with.  
“Well you me and the Demon knife ain't gonna cut it,” Dean said to Cas.  
“What about me?” YN asked excitingly, lifting her hand to motion her wrist comically.  
“No, no way!” Dean argued. “You using magic to get rid of that many goons, would defiantly kill you!”  
“You don’t know that.”  
“I do!” Dean argued. His eyes pleaded for her, just this once to follow instructions. She pouted and slumped in her chair.  
“Okay, I’ll get Sam,” Cas told the car.  
“No!”  
“No! We don’t need Sam.” The two argued. “If Sam wanted in, he’d be here! Okay? I got a better idea anyway.”

* * *

The boat was just as Y/N has seen in Garth’s picture. Large, blue and covered in dirt. The title of ‘Fizzle’s Folly’ greeted them in white paint. They all rolled their eyes and laughed. At least they laughed until they saw the inside. Every inch of furnishings were covered in papers with handwritten scribbles. On sitting hunched over half a Demon tablet, was Kevin. Stubble growing, the smell of an unwashed man wafting around him, and piled and piles of paper on the table.  
“Slow read?” Dean asked, announcing their presence. Kevin turned and saw the three standing there.  
“The slowest.” He grunted at them.  
“Where’s Garth?” Y/N asked.  
“I don’t know.” Kevin shrugged, turning back to his work. “Supply run? I lost track of his comings and goings. You guys need help with something? I’m working here.” Kevins short and authoritative tone was unlike the young boy they’d found over a year ago. How much he had changed.  
“You look horrible,” Cas replied when Kevin turned back around.  
“Cas!” Y/N scolded him.  
“Yeah, thanks,” Kevin mumbled turning back to his work.  
“He’s right, are you okay Kevin?” Dean asked.  
“I”m fine. I’m just in the middle of this.” Kevin grunted, waving his pen.  
“Any luck?” Y/N asked hopefully.  
“Interpreting half a demon tablet? No! I got nothing.” Kevin said sourly. The hunters looked at each other disappointed before Dean shook it off and clapped his hands.  
“Okay well, book up! Cus we need more of that Demon T and T, asap!”  
“You used it all,” Kevin told him.  
“Yeah so let’s whip up another batch,” Dean said cheerily.  
“Sure! West back witch hazel. Skull of an Egyptian cat. The tail of some random ass newt that may or may not be instinct!”  
“Okay, okay.” Y/N calmed, moving to stand in the centre of the room. “Ingredients are hard to come by. We get it.”  
“That’s just the first three,” Kevin told her.

“Give me the list. I’ll get what we need.” Cas said gruffly. The two smiled and watched as Kevin scribbled down a list of odd ingredients from memory. Things were looking up.

.

.

An hour had passed. Y/N had found a spot to sit amongst all the paper and pulled out her phone. Scrolling through whatever she could to bide her time, Kevin went back to work. Another pen came out to play and he started scribbling on paper again. Dean was less entertained. After a while he started pacing. Clapping his hands randomly and making stupid noises with his mouth. Eventually Kevin found it too distracting, putting on a pair of headphones to drown the man out. Dean stopped and looked at his watch.  
“I mean come on! How long does it take to get a cat skill from Egypt.” He wined.  
“Patience never was your virtue was it Dean?” Y/N smirked. Dean smiled and looked down at Kevin.  
“Kevin? Kevin?” He couldn’t hear him. Dean clicked his fingers by his head but there was no reaction. He smiled and leaned down near the boys ear. “You’re moms hot. I'm serious. Your mom is one sexy…”  
“Dean! Leave him alone!” Y/N threw a piece of paper at him, making him roll his eyes and stand back. As y/n laughed, Dean’s phone rang. He looked at the ID then at Y/N uneasily. She saw by the look on his face who was calling. Benny. “You don’t have to worry about me, not yet anyway.” She told him. He nodded and answered the phone.

Y/N listened carefully, hearing Dean converse with Benny. She looked up worried when Dean agreed to meeting Benny after this case was done, to help him stay sober from killing for blood. She didn’t like it, but that was an issue for later. When dean turned back after hanging up, Y/N ducked her head and locked back at her phone. Dean strolled across the boat, knocking Kevin’s earphones off as he walked to get his attention.  
“where is your mom?” Dean asked. Kevin sighed.  
“Somewhere safe.”  
“You kicked you mom to the curve?” Y/N asked, looking up again.  
“She was too distracting. I couldn’t focus. The angel said I had to go to the desert to learn the word, this is my desert!” Kevin explained.  
“Yeah but it’s your mom,” Dean argued.  
“I can’t enjoy a world I need to save. I can enjoy it when its all over with. But right now, there’s nothing more important than this.” Kevin shook his head and turned back to his work. Y/N and Dean looked at one another and nodded.

More silent minutes ticked by before they heard the sound of wings flutter and Cas return to the boat. They looked up and saw he was not alone.  
“I got what we need.” They looked at saw Sam standing awkwardly beside him.  
“What’s he doing here?” Dean asked. Y/N stood from her seat and moved to perch on the side of Kevin’s desk as the brothers stared each other out.  
“Don’t worry Dean, once we save Alfie I’m out,” Sam told him.  
“Oh! It’s when we save Alfie? Don’t hurt yourself Sam.” Dean argued back. Y/N sighed turning to give him a look. He ignored her. “We can handle it.”  
“Not according to Cas.” Sam argued.  
“We told you we didn’t need him,” Y/N said quietly, looking down at the ground. Cas looked over annoyed whilst Sam attempted the hide the hurt of hearing those words come from Y/N.  
“We need everything Y/N,” Sam said sternly. “And I need all of you, to as you say, to stow your crap! Can you do that?” The hunters all looked at one another defensively but nodded. They had to do that.

* * *

They left Kevin to get back to work once the Demon bomb had been made. They drove under dark night, back to the absconded factory the three had found earlier that day. Getting out the car they all stood around and came up with a game plan.  
“so there are four main points of warding. North, South, East and West.” Castiel began. “Four Onokian symbols like this,” He pulled out a marker and drew a symbol on Sam’s palm. “That you have to destroy before I can enter.”  
“Okay so what? We go in, take care of the hell gooks then you come in and extract the angel.”  
“Yes, after killing so many. I need to save at least this one.”  
“Sounds like a good plan, Cas.” Y/N offered kindly.  
“Okay, let’s do this,” Dean announced, flipping the demon blade in his hand before setting off.  
“Wait, here.” Cas stopped Sam and handed him his angel blade. “This doesn’t just kill angels, it kills demons too.” Sam took the knife and nodded his thanks. “I only have the one, I’m sorry.” Cas offered to Y/N. Y/N painted on a cheery fake smile.  
“That’s okay. Worse comes to worse, I got my hidden skills to rely on.”  
“Y/N,” Cas said heavily. “If there’s angel warding, it’s very likely Crowley will have warded against your magic as well.”  
“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, her smile failing.”I know.”  
“Can you feel it?”  
“A little. It’s like having motion sickness in the car.” She juddered. “But I can still feel things working on in here.” She smiled, waving her hands. “Small spells only.” She reminded herself before smiling at Cas and went to follow the boys into the factory.

The outside Demons were always the easiest, most gullible. Y/N and Sam hid behind opposite pillars whilst Dean stood wide in the open on a flight of stairs. As a Demon passed, his whistled loudly. The Demon walked back on its self, discovering the hunter. He blinked his eyes back and stepped forward. As he did Sam and Y/M pounced, grabbing the demon and plunging the knife into its back. It fell to the floor dead.  
“Not your most original work.” Y/N smiled up a Dean as Sam took the keys from the dead demon. He winked and turned to make it into the entrance and they followed.

Once inside Y/N felt her head grow foggy but kept flexing her hands to keep her magic turning. The three carefully stalked the halls until they found the first sigil painted on the wall. Sam took out a grey spray paint bottle and crossed out the warding. The hunters turned to each other and nodded. One down, three more to go. Y/N followed Dean down one route as Sam went the other. They found antlers sigil and crossed it out with grey spray paint whilst Sam took care of the other. They had a feeling the last one would be closest to where ever Crowley was keeping Alfie. Y/N and Dean went back on themselves, ready to meet Sam in the centre after he crossed out his sigil. But they heard struggling from not far away. Following the noise carefully they watched Sam plunge a knife into a demon. Before he had chance to stand and look down proudly at his handy work, another demon pounced on him from behind. Y/N pushed Dean by the shoulders over to his brother. He grabbed the demon and took him out in one quick swoop. Sam panted heavily, looking at his brother.  
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly.  
“Come on,” Dean grunted, not accepting his thanks. Sam looked over to Y/N, trying to make some sort of contact with the group, but even she couldn’t look him in the eye. Her eyes were glued to Dean’s back as she followed him.

The closer they got to the last sigil, the cleared they could hear Alfies screams. As the sound registers in their ears, they saw the shadows and heard the steps of more Demons approaching. The hunters moved like clockwork. Sam lighting up the demon bomb as the other hunters moved out the way. Her threw it towards the demons and felt the blast and heard their screams. When the heat subsided they glanced back and saw the dusty remains of a dead demon. When they found the last sigil, the screams of Alfie were near by, matching the sound of the bomb they just detonated. Their presences was surely known and they needed to start their exit. Dean crossed out the sigil and took a quiet prayer. “Anytime now, Cas.”

Castiel appeared, panting and weak.  
“Cas, you okay?” Sam asked worriedly.  
“It must be the sigils. I’m not at full power.” Y/N pulled out a spray can and turned to the boys.  
“we’ve got to block them out.”  
“No there isn’t time!” Cas disagree. “Samandriel won’t last much longer.” He begged, hearing the angel’s screams, knowing he was close to his demise. Dean turned to the door that blocked their path to Alfie and tried knocking it out. Sam took the blade Ca had given him and handed it back to the angel.  
“Cas, take this.” He offered, knowing his powers would be of little use right now. Y/N turned to help Dean but they were having no luck taking the lock out. The sounds of Alfies screams were getting to Cas, something painful digging into her brain, making him wince and hold his head as he crumbled to the floor and stared out front with fear. “Dean any time now.” Sam urged.  
“We’re trying!” Y/N argued.  
“Okay, plan B.” Dean shrugged when they couldn’t get the lock off.  
“We have a plan B?” Sam asked. Dean responded by throwing his body at the door. Sam didn’t argue, following suit. Y/N watched as the boys tried with brute force and as was cowered in the corner. She sighed, trying to ignore the sickness she felt.

“Get out the way.” She told them. They didn’t hear her. Her hands were already starting to heat up as she forced any magic willing to come to the surface to rise. “Move!” She yelled at the boys forcefully. They finally heard her scream and turned.  
“Y/N no!” They both cried. But it was too late. The glow in her hands was rising throw her arms, and up her neck. They watched fearfully as Y/N closed her eyes and thrusted the light the door.

“Peruro!” She gasped out loud. The magic exploded from her skin and trailed to the lock she set her eyes on. She held on to the connection, fighting back the screams of pain as the lock began to inflame into dark red and bright yellow. The lock slowly burnt away/ Very slowly. Y/N refused to let go of the connection, finally not able to bite the side of her cheek to stop her scream. She cried out painfully as she pushed more energy towards the lock. The boys both stood back, fear in their eyes and wanting to grab Y/N and stop the effect she was having. Her scream was blood curdling. But finally, the lock became liquid, pooling at the floor and the doors freeing open. Y/N yelled with relief as she fell to her knees.  
“Y/N!” Sam yelled, rushing down to her side. He tried to touch her skin but it burnt red hot.  
“I’m okay,” she panted. “Go! GO!” She yelled, forcing the boys to focus on their mission first and worry about her later.

The boys ran into the room where Crowley had been holding Alfie. They were met with the scared shocked face of a man in a long white coat, blood on his sleeves. He stood before Alfie, his head wired up in some odd contraption, most likely to keep him more manageable. Dean’s eyes darted to the tray of equipment and lunged at the metal instruments. The torture doctor leaped at the same time, desperate to have the upper hand. Unlucky for Dean, he got there first. He grabbed a large needle and the tussle began. Dean would dodge out of the way of it’s firing line, grabbing the demon doctor’s arms to try and constrain him. But Demons were strong and it wasn’t easy. As they battled, another Demon appeared through the double doors, occupying Sam in his own fight for life. The battle continued as Castiel struggled to Alfie’s aid. When he looked closer, he could see the contraption around his head was filled with spikes, penetrating the skin of Alfies forehead. One by one, and with difficulty, Castiel went about removing them.

When Dean was thrown through a glass window, Y/N finally forced herself to her feet, scrambling into the room. By the time she got there, Dean was onto of the Demon doctor, ready to plunge a knife into his chest. But the Doctor had its hang grasped around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. She looked to see Sam battling with another demon in a suit. He threw him across the room, but that only worked to the demon’s advantage. He landed beside a pair of knifes which he grabbed eagerly. Y/N moved in a quick swoop despite the pain firing up and down her spine. She swung her leg across the arm demon’s arm, stopping his hold on Dean’s throat. As she did, Sam kicked the other Demon backwards, readying him to fall onto his back. With Dean now free from his hold, he was able to quickly stand and plunge the knife upwards into the back of the falling demon. Barely a second after the demon com-pulsed and fell to its demise, Dean went back to the culprit that had been attempting to take his life. He knelt down onto of the doctor about to take him out for good.  
“No! No! I know things!” He begged, stopping the hunters for a moment.  
“Cas! Go!” Dean ordered. Sam and Y/N turned their head and saw Cas and Alfie gone.  
“Good, good!” The demon echoed. “There’s so much you don’t know. You need me.” Dean considered his words, nodding his head.  
“Yeah,” The demon smiled with relief. “Yeah I don’t think so.” Dean plunged the knife into the unexacting Demon and he was dead.

They all stood and panted heavily, looking at the mess and dead bodies.  
“you okay, Y/N?” Sam asked cautiously.  
“I’m fine.” She insisted.  
“You sure, cus you look like you’re about to puke,” Dean commented. Y/N chuckled.  
“it would probably blend in with the decor nicely.” She smirked. Dean smiled along with her, she was still fighting. She was fine. “Let’s go find, Cas.”

.

.

They ran out back to the car, Y/N following slightly behind. They found Castiel slumped on the floor, his head resting on Alfie’s body. He too was limp and lifeless.  
“Cas, what happened?” Sam panted. Cas looked up with a dead stare in his eyes.  
“he was compromise.” He said robotically. “He came at me. I killed him in self defence.” He told them as he stood. The hunters couldn’t respond. They just stared, waiting for further explanation. Cas was willing to go to such length to save his brother form harm, to make up for the problems he had made for so many angels. And here he was with another angel’s blood on his hands.  
“Cas, are you okay?’ Dean asked, noticing the sudden shift in Castiel’s nature. And the blood dripping from his eyes. Cas lifted his hand and wiped away the blood.  
“My nestle must have been damaged in the melee.” He looked right past them as if they were ghosts standing before them. “I have to go. Samandriel’s remains belong in heaven.” He knelt down to place his hands on Alfie’s body.  
“Cas, wait,” Y/N begged. He looked back up frozenly.  
“Thank you, all. For what you’ve done.” And then both he and Alfie were gone.

* * *

The hunters stood in the main room of the cabin, spraying angel warding on the walls and windows.  
“That should do it.” Y/N announced, throwing the spray bottle into the bin.  
“Cas can’t see or hear us now,” Sam informed them.  
“Okay, what the hell?” Dean asked fearfully.  
“I know.” Sam agreed.  
“I told you something was off with him since he got back from purgatory!”  
“You think someone’s messing with him?” Sam asked.  
“Angels?” Y/N asked.  
“Why would the angels have him kill another angel?” Dean asked. Y/N shrugged.  
“You two have had more experience with them than me. But from what you’ve told me, they’re dicks.”

Dean shrugged looking at the two in front of him. He sighed knowing the words he was about to utter would cause Y/N more pain than she would let on. He tried to save her a few more wounds.  
“Y/N can you err… the Impala’s got gas?’  
“What?” She asked, looking at him oddly.  
“Please?” Dean continued to ask. She looked at his eyes and knew he wanted her out of the room. She wanted to fight back and argue but she was so tired and if Dean didn’t want her here, there must be a reason. She walked steadily away and went to the back door, before hearing more words of Dean’s next sentence.  
“You know what man, you can go.” Dean offered his brother. Y/N stopped and hid behind the door.

“What?” Sam asked.  
“Don’t you have a girl to get back to?” Now Y/N understood.  
“yeah, I guess I do. Umm… since when are you on the Amelia band wagon?” Dean shuffled his feet looking down.  
“I don’t know. I’m just tired of the fighting.” He began to pace, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “And maybe I’m a little jealous.” He offered. “I could never separate yourself from the job like you could. Hell, maybe it’s time for one of us to be happy.”  
“You being such a big hugger an all?” Sam scoffed.  
“I’ll be fine. I got Sabrina the teenage witch out there.” He joked, throwing his beer bottle top away. Sam looked down, shame on Y/N still strong. It wasn’t just Castiel and the hell gates he would be leaving Dean and Y/N to deal with alone. There was the price over Y/N’s head that would one day cause a problem.  
“Amelia does make me happy.” He admitted. “She could be waiting for me if I go back there, I’d be a lucky man if she was… but now. I don’t know.” Dean looked at his brother oddly. “With everything staring down at us, everything let to be done. I don’t know.”

“Huh,” leaned humphed, “well I do know this. Whatever you decided, decide. Both feet in or both feet out. Anything in-between I what gets you dead.” Sam looked at his brother, wondering if he was talking about Amelia’s life or Y/N’s.  
“yeah, I keep hearing that.” He sighed. “I’m gonna take a walk. Clear my head.”

Y/N heard the door shut and her mind immediately told her, he wasn’t coming back. She bit her tongue, not finding the energy to move from her hiding spot. She listened with curiosity as Dean dialed a number on his phone. Only to distract her.  
“I’m sorry man. I’m not going to make it.” She heard him apologize. Benny. It seemed Dean was taking his own advice, taking two feet out of one situation so he could keep two in the other. “Listen , Benny. Everything you did for me, I’ll never forget. But err… this is it. End of the line.” He said sadly. “You err… stay good alright? … yeah man…” he hung up the phone after saying his goodbye. She heard him begin to walk and it wasn’t until he was standing in front of her she realised she’d forgotten to move. He looked down at her with a brotherly smile. She smiled sadly.

“He might choose you.”  
“If he stayed, he wouldn’t be choosing me.” She told him gruffly before walking away.

* * *

Y/N stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She lifted the hem of her vest top and squirmed, biting her tongue as cold air attacked the sensitive skin on her back. Removing the cloth revealed the red hot scorched skin, blistering and stinging with every breath Y/N took. She tried to skim her fingers over the wound, attempting to pick out loose lint from her top, but the pain made her head dizzy and bile risk rising from her throat. With every attempt her cheeks flushed and forehead sweat. She hissed and huffed, fighting the urge to punch the mirror’s glass in anger and alert Dean to her pain.  
“Come on, you’re a hunter for crying out loud.” She whispered to herself. She picked up a flannel and ran it under the cold tap and lifted her vest again. The cloth was about to touch the hurt skin when the door flung open.  
“Y/N?” Sam opened the door, stepping into the bathroom without a second thought.  
“Sam! What the hell?” Y/N protested, pulling her top back down to hide her injury. “Don’t you knock!” She asked angrily. Sam stood with puppy dog eyes, realising his mistake.  
“What’s that?” She asked, pointing a hand to the side of Y/N’s body. Her vest was back down to her hips, but she clung to the fabric, stopping it touching the burnt flesh.  
“Nothing.” She huffed, looking down and back up at him.  
“Y/N, let me see,” Sam argued, stepping forward and reaching for her hands. Y/N batted him away, her death stare daring him to try fight back. But Sam called her bluff. He matched her stare and kept still, waiting for her to realise the predicament she was in. He was close again, and the tension made Y/N uncomfortable. She was too tired to fight anymore. She rolled her eyes and sighed. Turning her body to the side, she lifted her vest to reveal the burn to Sam. “Jesus.” She heard her whisper.  
“It just needs cleaning.” She insisted using a quiet voice.  
“Wait here,” Sam instructed as he left the bathroom. Y/N looked back in the mirror. Taking in her reflection. The burnt skin went all the way up her lower spine, curling around her anti-possession tattoo inked on the side of her upper ribcage. There were dark spots of fabric contrasting white blisters and angry red skin. As she always hated to admit it, she needed help.

Sam came back with a first aid kit in his hands and settled it down on the side. He took out a clean white cloth and a plastic wrap to protect her skin from infection. “Can you hold your top-up?” He asked, wetting the cloth again with cold water. Y/N nodded, her right arm crossing over her body to lift the hum of her top, whilst the other clung to the sink. Sam didn’t warn her he was about to make contact with her skin, he just went for it. The second the skin was intruded, Y/N hissed and instinctively waved her free hand in the air. Sam grabbed it and held it tight, allowing her to squeeze his through the pain. She breathed heavily, panting almost as she grabbed her small hand in Sam’s large one and felt the cloth gently scrape away the dirt in her wounds. She gritted her teeth and continued to squeeze Sam’s hand. She didn’t let got, but sighed with relief when she felt the cloth remove from her skin and watched as Sam placed it back in the sink. She looked at the blood and dirt that sat on the surface of the fabric, that at one point had been imbedded in her skin. The horrible memory of her skin slowly heating and heating to melting point was soothed as Sam placed the plastic wrapping up her side and used his gentle fingertips to press its cooling nature to hot side. Sam used the flat of his palm to do one last gentle swipe over to dressing, making Y/N hum gently without realising. When she finally registered the involuntary mumble that came from her lips, she jolted her eyes to check Sam work was done so she could escape.  
“Thanks,” she murmured, not meeting Sam’s eyes. She let go of Sam’s hand and went to move away, but as she moved she was held back. Looking down the end of her arm she saw Sam hadn’t let go. She couldn’t help but look up and meet his eyes burrowing into hers. Her brow creased as she tried to read the silent words he was trying to communicate with her. The longer she looked at his sorrowful soul it slowly dawned on her. He’d come back. Her face softened with the realization. Unexceptionally Sam pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist, bending down to hug her tightly, but being mindful of her sore skin. Her arm hovered in the air as she froze in shock at what was going on. She tried to remember the last time Sam had embraced her like this. It felt so long ago.  
“I’m sorry.” He said gently. He was finally able to apologise for abandoning Y/N alone a year ago. She wasn’t able to stop him mid-sentence, shut him down and tell him not to bother. He was finally able to say it, and Y/N was finally ready to hear it. The tears pooled in her eyes as the harsh exterior she had built to protect herself from Sam, began to melt just like the lock. She nodded, tears falling from her eyes and her arms finally responding to the hug she was in. She squeezed him back gently.  
“Okay,” she told him in a whisper. “I can forgive you now.” She felt Sam nodded, sigh with relief, and squeeze her again briefly. It wasn’t long before Y/N finally cleared her throat, the awkward nature in the room becoming heavier than before. Sam pulled away and smiled awkwardly down at her.  
“I’ve made some dinner.” He told her before shuffling his feet and walking away.

Y/N let out a breath as he left the room and turned back to the mirror. She lifted her top and inspected the wrapping around her wound. Maybe now, wounds could start to heal.


	10. LARP and the Real Girl.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio gets thrown into the world of LARPING after two players turn up mysteriously dead. This case reunites the team with our favorite fangirl Charlie, who just happens to have a higher role of power than the hunters expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back my loves! Let me tell you, that week or so away was really needed for me. I used my time off to read as much fan fiction as humanly possible, eat as much chocolate as I could manage, and sleep the days away! But now I’m ready to get writing again! So here we go!

In true hunter fashion, the boys sat in the front seats of the Impala, whilst Y/N relaxed in the back. With her headphones on, attempting to blast her own music over the sound of Dean’s radio. She watched as water droplets ran down the window, reflecting the light of the moon up above. Her skin was still sore from her last battle with magic, her skin itching and burning during its recovery. If she had ever struggled to sleep before, now it was a real uphill battle. The discomfort of her flesh stopped her from getting close to a comfortable position that would allow her to drift off to be awoken by nightmares. When Dean looked back in the car mirror, he wasn’t shocked to see the dark bags resting under her eyes. He looked over to his left, studying his other passenger. Sam sat with pictures and files in his hands, obsessing over another tablet they couldn’t translate. Dean had silently prayed that when Sam agreed to stick on as a hunter, forget about the old life he briefly got to live, things would go back to normal. Y/N would be there to poke them in the ribs, give them extra insight into the world of magic. Sam would be his nerdy little brother, scanning over old written words that gave Dean the ability to pick the right sword and cut some suckers head off. He’d expected the mood to be somewhat lighter. But as he looked around the car, all he felt was heavy.  
  
“You alright man?” He finally asked his brother. Sam sighed when he looked up.  
“We have possibly the most powerful weapon we’ve ever had our hands-on, and we can’t use it.” He grunted frustratedly.  
“Yeah, well, Kevin’s on it. When he finds something he’ll call.” Dean tried to comfort his brother, get his mind in the right state. Sam only sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Look we’ve all had a rough go of it these past couple of weeks.” Dean offered, trying to show his sympathy. “And I know…” he looked in his mirror, checking to see if Y/N had entered the conversation. She was still idly drowning out the outside world with her music. “I know what you gave up wasn’t easy. Maybe we ought to take the night off. Y’know? See a flick. Hit a bar? Or two? We’ll find a motel, a nice one, set Y/N in front of the tv so she can finally get some real rest and just… have the night off? Have some fun! You remember fun, don’t ya Sammy?” Sam studied his brother's face as he went over his suggestions. The idea was tempting. He hadn’t admitted it, but he was so tired. And he knew Y/N was still in so much pain. A night off would be good for all of them. And give Sam and Dean a chance to reconnect, feel like brothers again. Before Sam had the chance to think about his answer, his phone rang in his pocket. Dean sighed as he went to answer, looking in the mirror to see Y/N take off her headphones and lean forward with a wince. “Should have known the sound of a phone would bring you back to us.” Dean quipped. Y/N smirked playfully. Even if her body felt like a tight rubber band, waiting to spring off, she was itching to get back to hunting. Get a case that was simply bad guys and good guys.

“Kevin, what you got?” Sam answered. Y/N battled the emotions of disappointment with the lack of a hunt, and excitement of possible advancements on the tablet. “Garth? What’s going on?… really? Alright, thanks, man. Hey Garth! Garth, you there? How do you know where we are?” Dean and Y/N both glanced at each other expectingly as Sam listened to Garth’s reply. “Listen it’s bad enough that you’re tracking us, it’s even worse when you say you’ve been Garthed.” Y/N and Dean both chuckled as Sam hung up the phone.  
“Do we need to lose the GPS on our phones?” Y/N asked humorously.  
“Garth has been tracking us, and other hunters to assign cases,” Sam told them.

“That’s smart. Total Bobby move.” Dean grinned. “What's the deal?” Sam rolled his eyes and relayed over the information Garth sent over on his phone.

“It’s close. Dude got ripped limb from limb inside his locked apartment.”  
“Curse? Dark magic?” Y/N asked excitingly.  
“Slow down there, Sabrina,” Dean lectures. “You’re still healing remember?” Y/N narrowed her eyes and pouted in her defiant response.  
“Working a case,” Sam said aloud. “As long as we’re waiting on Kevin, that’ll be our fun.”

* * *

Walking into the apartment in their fed get-ups. The hunters flashed their badges and walked through to the bedroom.  
“Sheriff,” Sam announced to the man standing over the body. “I’m special agent Tagott, this is special agent Rosewood and Willow.”  
“FBI? You guys are quick. Haven't even got the body out yet.” The sheriff laughed amusingly.  
“The FBI is all work, no play.” Dean quipped to his brother. Y/N rolled her eyes at the sibling banter and turned her focus to the room.  
“Why don’t you give our partner here the tour and we’ll have a look around,” Y/N suggested, pointing between herself and Dean. The sheriff nodded and moved to walk away, followed behind by Sam.

Y/N and Dean both pulled out their EMF readers and began walking around the rooms. They darted at all levels, crouching down and reaching up to get every corner of every room. Dean kept Y/N in the corner of his eye, observing her slower and rigid movements. He could see the twitch by the side of her mouth expressing the pain she was trying to push down.  
“You okay over there?” Dean called to her.  
“Yeah, why?” She asked.  
“Well, you still seem a bit…” Dean attempted to convey some sort of robot movement with his arms. When Y/N just glared at him, he let his hands flop down by his side.  
“I’m fine.” She told him. “The burns are healing, just slowly."  
“And what about you and Sam?” Dean finally asked.  
“We’re fine,” Y/N told him, turning away and getting back to the job at hand.  
“You think you two will ever…”  
“Dean,” Y/N interrupted, turning to face him fully. “Not now.” Dean took in the tiredness on Y/N’s face and held up his hands in surrender.

They walked back into the main room of the apartment, happy that none of this was due to the work of a ghost. They shook their heads to Sam who was listening to the explanation of the Sheriff.  
“We got one solid lead though,” he explained. “His last call was from a guy called Lance Jacobson. An accountant, also thirties, also lives alone.”  
“Why’s he a lead?” Y/N asked, stuffing her hands into her blazer pockets.  
“The two of them talked together for fifteen minutes and then Lance sent Ed here, all kinds of angry texts. Some of them were your typical threat stuff. But some of them were a little weird.”

“Weird how?” Dean asked.  
“Like err…. ‘You shall bleed for your crimes against us.’ Followed by the emoticon of a skull.” The sheriff read from his note pad. “Oh and this beauty. ‘I am a mage, I will destroy you.’ These kids these days with their texting and murder. My men just brought Lance into the station for questioning.” The elderly men said fondly as if thinking of the good old days.  
“Well, we’re going to need the first crack at the suspect.” Sam requested.

* * *

They walked into the interrogation room, panels on the walls paired with a large mirror and table and chairs.  
“Lance Jacobson?” Sam asked as they saw a skinny man hunched over the desk. “We’re with the FBI.” Y/N declined the seat offered to her by Sam’s hand, the pain of shifting from bent to standing too much for her skin right now. Instead choosing to pace along the back of the room. Dean and Sam sat before the scared man.  
“FBI? I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe Ed’s dead.” He began to sob, crying in hysterical whelps.  
“Lance, just breath.” Dean couched him. “Just breath, you’re fine.”  
“We just need to ask you a few questions, try to calm down,” Sam asked, in a less than sympathetic voice. Y/N cocked an eyebrow up, shocked how Dean and Sam seemed to have switched their usual interrogation tactics.  
“The texts you sent Ed last night?” Y/N prompted.  
“I tried to tell them when they called me in last night, those texts weren’t from me!”  
“Your phone and Ed’s phone say otherwise.” Sam countered.  
“No, they were from me but they went from me me!” Lance continued to beg. The hunters all turned to look at one another, seeing if either of them got a translation out of those words.  
“Did you really think that sentence was going to clear things up?” Dean asked.  
“I’m sorry, this is all a big misunderstanding. Those texts were from Grayfar The Mystic to Thargrim The Difficult. Our characters in Moondoor.”  
“You’re Larpers!” Y/N sighed with a smile, finally understanding the situation. The boys again turned to look at her confused.  
“Yes!’ Lance exclaimed, relieved someone understood him. “It’s a game we play. Live-action roleplaying!” The boys still honed in their stares on Y/N. She shrugged casually.  
“What?”  
“We play Moondoor every other weekend in the park. All the info about it is on our website.”  
“You guys have a website?” Dean scoffed.  
“Yeah, one of the other players designed it. In fact, if you go on there, there should be pictures from last night's feast! I was there all night!”  
“What has any of this go to do with those texts?” Sam asked.  
“I play a character called Grayfar The Mystic. I’m a very, very powerful mage in the game.” Sam looked with curiosity as Y/N began to round the table and perch herself on the end, listening intently to Lance’s story. “Ed is… Ed was Thargrim The Difficult of the elder forest. He was Lancelot to my Merlin.”  
“Well if you two were so close how come you sent those threatening messages?” Y/N asked, fully engrossed in the plot now unraveling before her.  
“We were both called to the Queen’s honor guard in anticipation of the coming battle of kingdoms this week. I found out he broke protocol so I phoned Ed after game hours and excused him of cheating. Then I challenged him to a duel.”  
“A duel?”  
“Wands and swords at dawn.” The boys looked at one another, wanting to roll their eyes for the question Dean was about to ask.  
“Now when you say wands do you mean magic wands?” Before Lance had a chance to reply, Y/N interjected.  
“No, un-magic wands. That’s just what you want in a duel to the death.”  
“It’s a game! Fake wands.” Lance added before falling back into a fit of sobs, thinking about his dead friend.

.

.

“So, you believe all that?” Sam asked the other hunters as they left the interrogation room.  
“It’s legit,” Y/N told him. “People spend their entire lives over this kind of thing. And he wasn’t faking in there! He’s not the killer.” She insisted.  
“Well, what we think then? Check out the Moondoor website and see if the story checks out?” Sam shrugged, moving to face a laptop open and unlocked in the police station. Y/N and Dean took place either side as Sam sat on the chair and began typing into a search engine. “Welcome to Moondoor. The world’s largest LARPing game.” He read aloud when the website popped up. He navigated his way through the pictures and saw the images of Lance at the feast. Dean chuckled at the sight of booze, food, and costumes.  
“Actually looks kinda awesome.” He commented.  
“Right!” Y/N smiled at him. Sam ignored them and continued to click through the photo gallery.  
“There’s a video.” He clicked play and scene after scene of the different kingdoms and events the Larpers engaged in.  
“Wait.” Y/n reached over to the mouse and paused the video. On the screen, dressed in robes, a crown, and on a throne was a very familiar redhead. The words Queen of Moons titling her presence. “Charlie!” She smiled.

.

.

As they continued to navigate their way through the website, getting a large grasp on this completely different world, suddenly there came a blood-curdling scream. They ran towards the sound, into the interrogation room where they were met with the smell of metallic blood and death. On the floor laid a dead and exploded Lance. As he was wrapped up and carried out of the room, the hunters looked at one another, full of suspicion.  
“That was not a coincidence,” Y/N told them. The Sheriff walked towards them with an odd look on his face.  
“You’re gonna want to see this.” He told them. They followed him towards another computer where he pulled up surveillance off the indent. They watched as Lance staggered around the room, coughing up handfuls of blood before finally throwing up enough blood to render him dead. The hunters looked wide-eyed at the scene before them. “God forbid he was contagious. I’m going to go dip myself in disinfectant.” The sheriff told them before scurrying away. If it wasn’t for the dead body, Y/N would have laughed. It almost comforted her how some people were so content in living a lie. Convincing themselves of a scientific solution no matter the evidence in front of them.  
“No EMF, no hex bags not sulfur. I got nada! You?” Dean asked Y/N she shook her head.  
“I mean it could be magic but I can’t see who?” She shrugged. Sam zoomed in on the footage, something catching his eyes,

“Look at that!” Having a closer look at the video, the team could see an inky black tree with roots and long branches tattooed on Lance’s forearm. “Exactly like Eds!” He flipped open the report and they saw a picture of the same tattoo placed on Ed’s arm. “Maybe they had matching tattoos? They were brothers in arms.” Sam suggested. “You recognize it?”  
“I mean… it’s a tree!” Y/N scoffed. “It could be from a number of things.”  
“Well apart from that, the only thing these two guys have in common is Larping.”  
“Lucky for us, we know the Queen.”

* * *

Even with the brisk autumn air, all around them, people were smiling. Dressed in costumes, surrounded by flags and tents. It was like being back in time. They looked on ahead and saw a man with fake ears and teeth, trapped in wooden stocks and looking miserable.  
“I Voltar The Furious hereby bind you to these stocks so the whole of Moondoor can see you for what you really are.” A man dressed as a knight stood beside him, clearly his capturer. “A thief.”

“My Shadow Ork brethren will descend from the hills and…” as the man with fake teeth spoke, he lost grip and watched as the dentures fell from his mouth and fell on the floor.  
“err… Hold!” The other man declared as he reached down for the teeth. He picked them up and dusted them off.  
“Thanks, Gerry. Sorry.” The trapped man thanked as Gerry placed them back in his mouth.  
“Yeah, no problem Monty.” He coughed before declaring they resumed their play. Y/N giggled happily as they watched the scene play out. Eventually, Dean sighed and stepped forward.  
“Excuse me.” He said as the man, Gerry or Voltar The Furious turned to walk away. “You’re a Larper right?”  
“I prefer the term interactive literature.” He argued.  
“Right well…” each hunter pulled out their badges to show to the man dressed as a Nobel knight. “I am special agent Rosewood this is Special agent Taggot and Willow…”  
“Hold!” The man interpreted before Dean could finish his introductions. “Guys we’re not doing the whole genre mash-up this weekend. We only do that every third month.”  
“Come again?” Sam asked.  
“The fake badges, cheap suits? It’s very cool I get it. Your characters are FBI agents who somehow traveled to Moondoor but um… I’m telling you it's straight-up Moondoor this weekend.”  
“These aren’t fake badges,” Y/N argued with a polite smile.  
“err… yeah they are. And they’re very good but…” he took the badge from Y/N’s hand. “Well, the ID digit shifted with ten digits with the others mixed in with the end of the year. And er… seals from last month. I mean it’s really good work, but it's tournament weekend.” The man continued to patronizingly explain as he handed Y/N her badge back, which she quickly snatched back. “So, you gotta follow the rules. If there are no rules there’s chaos.” Gerry re-lifted his hood and called out to resume to the rest of the listeners, getting back in character. “If you’d like to join Moondoor, the queen is always looking for new suitors and squires.”  
“Yes,” Dean agreed. “We would like to see your Queen, now please.” He said eagerly, ready to see Charlie and a familiar face that could help them navigate this confusion.  
“The Queen’s calendar is booked out months in advance.” They were told. “But if you wish to witness what is in store for you in her army. The Queen is observing new squires as we speak.”

.

.

They walked over to the makeshift battleground and watched as two soldiers in helmets battled one another. Eventually one fell to the ground, screaming his surrender.  
“I yield!” The other knight took pity and pulled back, before reaching for their helmet and pulling it away. Gasps of awe filled the crowd as red auburn hair fell from the metal, and Charlie’s smirk met them back. “I love you.” The lost knight gasped.  
“I know.” Charlie smiled. “Take your leave to my medical tent and attend to your severed limbs.” The queen smiled before turning to address her crowd. “Grayfar and Thargrim are missing. We pray to the Goddess that they have not fallen victim to foul play. In their absence the honor guards ranks are weakend.” Charlie turned and scanned each member of her kingdom, address them each with confidence and pride. “To join…” her eyes finally landed on the two suited men and their smartly styled female companion, smirking and waving her fingers in a playful hello. She stumbled on her words and sighed. “Oh blurk! The Queen, needs some royal ‘We’ time. Talk amongst thy selves.” The hunters laughed as a startled Charlie scurried off and hid in her tent.

They stepped forward, following her footsteps. Sam and Y/N turned when they saw Dean get distracted by the makeshift sword discarded on the floor. He picked it up to observe.  
“Nice balance.” He commented.  
“Dude!” Sam and Y/N both moaned. Dean shook out of his trance and with the sword still in hand, followed them.

Through the fabric doors, the hunters stepped in to see a well-decorated tent, fit for any queen of battle. The fabric was red and plush, with maps for figuring out positions on a table. Along with tables and rugs, was also Charlie now packing a bad at high speed. “Charlie,” Sam groaned.  
“Charlie Bradbury is dead.” She told them. “She died a year ago. You killed her. My name is Kerry Highline.” She informed them as she went about removing the extra metallic garments of her outfit. “Oh, and guess what. Now you killed her too.” Slinging her bag over her shoulder she finally turned to the hunters.  
“Okay listen,” Dean attempted.  
“No! I buried myself. Roman went down, his company went belly up! And I thought, hey! It's all good. And I was fine, I got my life back. Now you’re here. And if you guys are here, that means monsters are here.” The hunters looked at each other and shrugged, unable to really argue. “Why do I have such bad luck? What am I, some monster magnet? Is there such a thing as a monster magnet? You know what, don’t answer that! I don’t care. What I care about is not getting my other arm broken. Or dying! So! I’m dropping my sword and walking off the stage bitches.” Charlie grabbed her crown and began walking out of the tent, dropping the shiny headpiece of Dean’s head as she left. “Have fun, storming the castle!”  
“Charlie!” Y/N called out authoritatively, pleased to see it worked at halted Charlie’s pace. “Thargrim and Grayfar, Ed and Lance? They’re not missing. They’re dead.” She told her.

.

.

With the seriousness of the situation finally hitting Charlie, they all gathered around the table, the hunters showing Charlie pictures and evidence of her fellow LARPers demise.  
“Drawn and quartered and bleeding out? Please stop talking again. So what do you think did this?” Charlie groaned, looking at the pictures.  
“Aside from the mark and both of them being LARPers, there’s really not much for us to go on,” Dean told her, sliding a picture of the tree tattoo towards Charlie.  
“Wait, I’ve seen this before,” she told them, pointing and looking at the marking. “It’s a Celtic magic symbol.” The hunters looked at Y/N.  
“And you didn’t pick up on that?” Dean argued.  
“Well, at least it was in my favorite video game.” Charlier continued. Y/N sighed with relief that she hadn’t messed up and sent a pointed stare at Dean, who sent an apologetic one back. “Does that help? Can I go now?”  
“It’s a start but no.” Sam stopped her. “What can you tell us about Ed and Lance?”  
“Good guys, two of the best members of the Queens ever-shrinking army.”  
“Ever shrinking?” Y/N asked.  
“My kingdom has had a lot of bad luck lately,” Charlie sighed. “Probably because of me. But maybe it’s tied to this.” She said looking back at the tree symbol. “A couple of weeks ago, a guy of mine had both her ankles broken before a tournament. Before that, I had three people with hospital worthy accidents whilst at home. You think there’s any connection?”  
“They have any enemies in common?” Sam asked.  
“In real life? No! Everyone gets along famously. In the game, they had tones of enemies.” Charlie stood from her chair, prompting the hunters to follow her towards her map of positions. Y/N winced as she got up far too quickly. As Charlie continued to talk, Sam hang back and helped her out of her chair. Both sharing awkward but grateful smiles. “Red ones are followers of the moon, my peeps” Charlie explained. “Green for elves, blue for Warriors of Yesteryear, and black for shadows works. Total D bags! This weekend is the battle of kingdoms to see who wears the forever crown. This weekend, every faction is defiantly an enemy of me and mine.” Dean looked down at the map and a thought occurred to him.  
“You know if you err… move your archers back and your broad swordsmen to the west…”  
“Oh! Flank the warriors. Good call.” Charlie nodded along with the agreement. “What about the southern wall?”  
“Guys,” Sam spoke loudly, pulling them back to focus.  
“Yeah, right sorry.” Dean stuttered.  
“So maybe someone from the other kingdoms…” As Sam continued to talk and looked at Y/N, Dean moved a piece of Charlie's plan to give her better coverage. The two nodded in alliance at one another. “Got a hold of real magic and started using it to weaken your army?” Sam guessed. Y/N looked up and beamed excitingly, but was met with the ‘calm down’ look from Dean.  
“Well, why not just come for me? And why the acceleration?” Charlie probed.

“Okay,” Dean clapped in his authority leader voice. “We’ll canvas the kingdoms and you get out of here, get somewhere safe.”  
“Whoah, hold on.” Y/N began, “Charlie knows Moondoor better than anyone. We need her.”  
“Y/N I think we can take care of a bunch of accountants with foam swords!” Dean argued.  
“Who happen to have their hands on real magic. And we can’t exactly fight fire with fire here. More fire with a little bit of smoke.” She sighed, hinting at her restricted position.  
“Hey! I am right here and I want to leave!” Charlie yelled.  
“Thank you,” Dean smirked.  
“But the Queen, she has to stay.” Charlie sighed. Y/N smirked back at Dean. “And you know what, I’m tired of running. I like my life here. I’m gonna stay and fight for it.”

Y/N reached out a hand to squeeze Charlie’s shoulder comfortingly. She smiled back thankfully as Sam’s phone began to ring.  
“Yeah?” He answered. “Okay…. thanks.” He hung up and turned back to the others. “So the toxicology report came back on Lance. Nothing. But the medical examiner said it showed clear signs that he’d been killed by Belladonna.”  
“The porn star?” Charlie and Dean asked in unison.  
“The poison.” Sam and Y/N replied. “However they couldn’t find a trace of it in his system.”  
“Just like they couldn’t find ropes in Ed’s apartment,” Y/N concluded.  
“Charlie, I’m gonna need to borrow your laptop,” Sam asked.  
“There are no laptops in Moondoor,” Charlie told him regretfully. “What? There are rules!” She wined back at their annoying faces. “But there is a tech tent four tents down.”

“Right,” Y/N declared, standing up straighter, despite the pain in her side. “Me and Sam will check out this mark whilst you two canvas the woods?” She smiled at the agreement and pulled Sam by the arm as they left Dean and Charlie to get to work.

.

.

Walking towards the tent, Sam chuckled and as Y/N looked around her in wonder. When she caught his sniggering she pierced her eyes.  
“What?” She groaned.  
“Nothing, I just… didn’t have you pegged as the type.” Sam smiled cheekily.  
“What? The type keen to escape the real world for a couple of hours a week?” She countered. Sam raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Look I’ve never actually done it but… it looks cool. I looked into it.” She answered the question she knew he and Dean had been dying to answer since the beginning.  
“But how is this any different to the life you lead now?” He questioned, noting the similarities of magic usage.  
“It's controlled, there are rules and you get the fun of magic without the deadly burns on your ribcage.” She said looking forward to the tent. “Look,” she pointed, happy to pull Sam’s attention away from the grievances of her magical life. The sign was laminated and read ‘BEWARE: THIS IS A GATEWAY TO THE FUTURE.” The hunters both smirked as they entered and sat down beside a free computer.

Beside them was an attractive blonde, draped in cloaks and happily searching her own game. She took note of Sam and smiled politely. Sam smiled back before a thought came to him.  
“Excuse me, do you know if there’s a log of all players?”  
“Yeah, it’s on the website. All you need is an account to access it.” She said in a somber voice. Sam smiled.  
“Thanks err…” he reached out a hand to shake thankfully.  
“Maria. I mean… Golondria, the wicked.” Y/N fought back her snort at the flirtatious smile she sent towards Sam, ignoring her own presence. Y/N gently pushed Sam’s chair aside as to get to work, with a grunt in the back of her throat.

Sam finally turned his attention back to the task at hand as he and Y/N pulled up the victims of whatever dark magic was being used in this game. They mumbled theories to one another, attempting to be silent and unheard. But as they talked, Y/N noticed Maria sneaking a glance over to their screen.  
“It’s just part of the game.” She informed her, trying not to sound too bitter.  
“Genre mash-up? Cool!” She smiled, not at Y/N but at Sam. “Hey, I know her! That’s Phillis!” She leaned closer to Sam to get a better look at the screen. Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned back, letting Sam take the lead as she gently padded her fingers along her burnt skin, checking the healing process. “She broke her ankles or something… oh and that’s Jamie! He said someone broke into his house and beat him with his own mace but…”  
“No signs of a forced entry.” Sam continued. “Oh! Uh, do you recognize this symbol? I think it’s Celtic.” He asked, pulling up a closer look at the tree tattoo that kept creeping up.  
“No, sorry. But I’ll look it up.” She smiled again, too sweetly for Y/N’s liking.  
“Thanks,” Sam said gently, before turning back to Y/N. “What?” He mouthed at Y/N’s cold face. She rolled her eyes and began to think out loud.  
“Someones targeting the queen's people.” She sighed.  
“No, not just them” Maria interrupted. “Those four are with the Queen but these two, they’re elves. These two, they’re warriors. The only group not to get hit are the Shadow Oaks.” Y/N had to admit to herself that Maria, or Gollondria, was being rather helpful now she wasn’t batting eyelids at Sam. She forced a kind smile as Gollondria pulled up a web page showing off the tattoo symbol of the tree.  
“It’s a symbol of pain.” She read aloud. “If you are tagged with this mark, you’ll be affected with fairy magic.”  
“What? Fairy magic can be bad?” Maria asked.  
“Looks like it.” Y/N shrugged. “You wanna call Dean?” She asked Sam. Sam nodded and picked up his phone to get hold of Dean, but there was no response. He put his phone back in his pocket and turned back to the blonde who had been helping them.  
“Well thank you very much for your help Gollondria.” Sam said poetically. Y/N laughed under her breath as she began the long and painful process of standing up.  
“Any time, I’ve never done genre mashup play before. That was fun.”  
“First time for everything hey.” Sam smiled back, helping Y/N out of her seat and getting ready for their exit. Before they got more than a few steps away Gollondria reached out for Sam.  
“First time for a lot of things if you wanna come to find my tent later.” Sam’s spine suddenly froze as he realized the flirtations heading his way.  
“Uh… another time maybe.” He mumbled before turning away and pulling Y/N with him.

As they left the tent, Y/N tried not to sound jealous as she chuckled to herself.  
“What?” It was Sam’s turn to interrogate her this time.  
“You’ve got all the maidens with their eyes on you.” She muttered to herself.  
“You’re being ridiculous.” He groaned.

.

.

They continued walking around the ground of the tents, looking for either Charlie or Dean. Y/N poked Sam in the ribs and pointed towards a man dressed in Moondoor attire across from them. It was Dean chatting with the man they had met on their entrance to Moondoor. By Dean’s face, the interaction was less than friendly as Voltar turned and walked away. Both Sam and Y/N laughed as they strode over.  
“Nice outfit.” Y/N smiled, using her hand to flick a piece of fabric on Dean’s clothes.

“You love it.” He replied defensively. Y/N raised her eyes at Dean's cockiness but found it rather endearing still.  
“Yeah, well, when you were playing dress-up.” Sam interrupted. “We found out that the mark…”  
“Belongs to the Shadow Orks.” Dean piped in.  
“Yeah, and they’re using fairy magic,” Y/N told him, passing Dean the print out from the computer screen.  
“The Tree of Pain? Awesome.” Dean said sarcastically.  
“Whoever gets marked, gets ganked,” Sam told him.  
“How do we stop it?”  
“Find out who cast the spell, take them out. No more marks, no more dead bodies.” Y/N guessed with a shrug.  
“Okay well perfect. Err, our pal Voltar the chatty,” Dean pointed to the man who had just left his side, it seemed Dean had created some sort of alliance with the man during his journey with Charlie. “Is getting the Shadow Ork prisoner, we’re going to try a prisoner exchange. Try and lure the Shadow King out. It was my idea.” He said proudly. “Where’s Charlie?”  
“She’s supposed to be with you.” Y/N looked confused.  
“No, I sent her over to you two.” He rolled his eyes. Nothing was ever easy, was it. He turned back to her tent, hoping to find her in there. “Charlie? Your Highness?” He called but no response. “You know what she’s got my phone. Try it?” Sam reached for his phone and rang Dean’s number but there was no response.

.

.

As nightfall came upon them, the hunters still had no look in finding Charlie. They decided to carry on with the plan, assuming the Shadow Orks must have gotten to her somehow. They would carry out the prisoner exchange and get Charlie back as they figured out who was casting this dark fairy magic. Sam, Dean, and Y/N followed behind a chained Shadow Ork prisoner and Voltar, the quips and the sarcastic knight who kept popping up during their journey through Moondoor.  
“I swear if anything’s happened to her,” Dean mutters as they trudged along the muddy path.  
“Dude, we checked all the tents. We’ll talk to these dudes and we’ll find her.” Sam said reassuringly.  
“Besides,” Y/N continued. “She’s Charlie. If she can survive Dick Roman she can pretty much survive a lot of things.”

They stopped at the agreed meeting point, torchlights flashing around them. The Shadow Ork prisoner made a ‘caw’ sound to summon his own tribe. The hunters looked at each other with a befuddled look before a group of men in dark cloaks appeared from behind a tree.

“Greeting,” Voltar said slowly.  
“You should kneel before me.” The man standing in front with false teeth and a large picture of the Tree of Pain along his chest spat out to Voltar. Dean rolled his eyes at the role-play.  
“Alright, why don’t you let me…”  
“Silence!” Voltar dismissed. “Now, before we exchange, a few announcements.” The players shared an agreed look and mutually paused the game they were playing. The Shadow Ork King took out his teeth and stepped forward to hear Voltar. “There’s a pee-wee soccer game going on on the field this weekend. We don’t want to scare the mundanes so we gotta move the battle of kingdoms to the…”  
“Alright, that’s it.” Dean groaned reaching for his gun. “I’m gonna do this the old fashioned way.”  
“Dean don’t” Y/N complained.  
“I told you! There are no guns,” Voltar rejected.  
“Shut up!” Dean yelled back. “I need real answers. This here is a real gun. See?” He pointed the gun to the ground and shot off a bullet that shocked all civilian players. Y/N and Sam just rolled eyes at one another.  
“Whoah! Whoah! Hold! Geeze!” The Shadow Ork King yelled.  
“Start talking! Where’s the Queen?” Dean bellowed.  
“I don’t know!”  
“Yeah well you’re little family crest there tells a different story there pal.”  
“This?” The king questioned, pointing down to the symbol on his chest. “Uh… I got sick last month after this thing appeared on my arm.” He took off his gloves and lifted up his sleeve to reveal another tree inked onto his skin. “I thought it looked really cool so I turned it into my family crest. I mean after my dermatologist told me it was nothing to worry about.”  
“Dean he’s just another vic!” Y/N groaned pulling him back by the shoulder.  
“My name is Max Hilbey, I am an attorney. I have no idea where the Queen is. But if you let me go now I promise I won’t press charges.” Dean nodded and put his gun away.  
“Go.” He groaned before turning back to the group. “What?” He wined at the unimpressed faces.  
“Is the queen really in trouble?” The prisoner asked, taking out his fake teeth. Dean nodded. “Okay well, I noticed something really odd and weird. It’s this weird tent. It’s not one of ours. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?” Sam asked suspiciously.  
“Look, I harper and an epic crush on the queen. Maybe you could put in a good word for me when you find her?”

“I don’t think you're her type,” Dean muttered as he ushered the rest of his team to walk in the opposite direction.  
“What? You mean she’s not into Orks?” They heard the man called after them.

They walked towards the direction the Ork said he’d seen the tent, stepping over broke branches and logs on the ground. Eventually, they came across a clearing with a fabric tent wedged between to fire lanterns standing and burning in the ground.  
“We haven't checked that tent,” Dean commented before the hunters, along with Voltar made their way towards it. Pushing back the fabric they stepped in and saw the interior of a much large tent, with a fireplace and wooden tree bases holding up the structure. Sitting on a four-poster bed was Charlie with her arms around a taller woman with deep mahogany skin, cascading curls and white sheered cloaks. They kissed passionately, smiling against each other's lips.  
“Oh,” Y/N stumbled as Dean coughed loudly. The two women parted from one another and looked at them in shock.  
“Dudes!” Charlie protested. “If the tent is a-Rockin' don’t come a-knocking!”

“No, it’s him! It’s my master! Run!” The woman who had been in Charlie’s arms stood up with terror in her eyes, looking behind the hunters. The hunters all followed her fearful gaze and saw Voltar with a wicked grin on his face.  
“Shit.” Y/N winced. The hunters all lifted up their guns and pointed them at Voltar.  
“There are no guns in Moondoor.” Voltar said with a steady voice but psychotic eyes. “Guilda if you please.” He turned to the other woman who, with regretful eyes lifted her hand and waved. The guns in the hunter's hand popped into feathers and fell to the floor. They all looked in shock. Y/N guessed that this mysterious woman must be the fairy that was following out these deadly sins. But with the fear on her face and the restrained movements, it seemed she wasn’t acting from her own free-will, but Voltars.  
“Well now, what Gerry?” Dean asked, using the man’s real name. His face screwed up with irritation.  
“My name… is VOLTAR THE FURIOUS! My plan was, after getting rid of all of my competition to win the battle tomorrow.” He turned his gaze to look and speak to Charlie. “Convincing the Queen that I should be her King.” Charlie groaned and rolled her eyes. “But then you idiots showed up and I had to improvise. Rescue the damsel in distress remarks, become king. Kill you all. That’ll work too.”  
“So why’d you go from hobbling to murder?” Sam asked.

“Grayfar and Thargim became part of the honor guard. They got close to the Queen, but they did it by breaking the rules. Paying off other players with real money and not Moondoor currency. They were cheating!”  
“Oh, and using magic isn’t?”  
“magic is apart of Moondoor!” Gerry instead.  
“What is your problem?” Charlie yelled. “Why would you hurt people? This is just a game!”  
“THERE IS NO GAME! ONLY MOONDOOR!” Gerry howled aggressively. “I came here to be different. To get away from my crappy life. To be a hero! And guess what?”  
“What you were a loser in the real world and you’re a loser here? Shocker!” Dean smirked provokingly.  
“Would a loser track down a real book of spells and compel a fairy to do his bidding?”  
“Depends, where you get the book from?” Y/N asked, knowing finding genuine magical books wasn’t always easy.  
“eBay…” Gerry stuttered. Everyone forced back the laughter and unimpressed glares. Well, everyone except Y/N.  
“Look, it doesn’t have to be like this.” Sam insisted. “Just give us the book of spells and we call all figure this out.”  
“This will all sort itself out after I remove you from the playing field and wipe the Queen's memory. Guilda?” Guild dropped her head in remorse as Gerry picked up the fake foam sword. She wiped her hand and the sword became sharp and made of steel. Dean darted for another sword, as did Sam. “Guilda, the big one!” Guilda waved her hand again and a metal statue of a knight's armor came to life, grabbing Sam by the throat. Dean threw a shot at Gerry with his sword, only for it to be cut in two, made out of foam. Gerry shoved Dean and threw him across the room. When Gerry turned to Y/N with an evil grin he was confused to see her match his expression.

“Oh, you really don’t want to go against me, Gerry.” She smirked.

“Oh really? A little girl with no weapon and a fake badge?” He spat.  
“Who said I had no weapon?” She smiled.  
“Y/N, don’t!” Sam chocked against the armor's grip. She ignored him, flexing her wrist and a deep blue glow vibrating from her skin. Y/N could feel the pain course through her body, rejecting the actions she wanted to take, but forcing her brain to ignore them. She reveled in the shocked and perhaps scared face-off Gerry, not noticing the same expression from Charlie and her fairy companion standing by the side.  
“Y/N!” Dean recovered from his fall and went running by Y/N’s side, to stop her attack before it had a chance to reflect onto her own body. But she was already in motion.  
“Inpello!” She yelled, pushing her power against the unsuspecting Gerry. He crashed to the floor with a blow to his gut. Y/N felt the same blow to her own stomach and fell backward harshly to the floor. Dean bundled up beside her, hoping to get her back to standing by the time Gerry had managed to get back to his feet. Y/N looked up with blurry vision but could see on Gerry’s painful lying body the book of magic wrapped around his belt. She sighed heavily, one last push of magic belting from her hand. “Motus.” She gasped.

The book fell from Gerry’s belt and was slid along towards Charlie and Guilda.  
“They can’t stop him! The book! You have to destroy it.” Guild begged Charlie. Gerry recovered and stood up, heading strike Dean who was too busy fussing over Y/N’s fallen body. He lifted his shield to block Gerry’s strike. Charlie looked around, seeing Sam gasping for air, Y/N lifeless on the floor, and Dean cowering beneath a shield. She dived to the ground, landing by the book and reaching for her knife.  
“Hey, Gerry.” She smirked, pulling his attention away from his attack and to her. “I’m the one who saves Damsels in distress around here.” Gerry looked down, realizing the book had been taken from him. Before he had a chance to react, Charlie plunged her dagger, and a splash of golden light vibrated in the room. Gerry’s weapon turned back to a foam sword, Sam was released from his metal grip and darted towards Y/N on the ground. She was conscious, mumbling in pain and eyes still trying to focus.  
“Y/N” he gasped, lifted her up to sitting. She hissed with pain as her burnt skin scratched along the fabric of her shirt. Gerry took one last chance at attacking Dean, using his fake sword to strike him. But Dean caught the fabric, pulling it from his grip and punching him unconscious onto the floor. He had lost.

Charlie smiled and looked to Guilda, rushing into her arms.  
“Are you okay?” She asked.  
“You destroyed the spell. You saved me. The Hollow Forest is forever in your debt.” Guild looked down at the pale Y/N hunched in Sam's arms and smiled. “I thought I was alone in this world.” She said kindly, referring to Y/N’s sudden abilities. She waved her arm and a green glow passed through Y/N’s body. Suddenly she gasped heavily, air returning to her lungs in a cool rush. She felt all pain slide from her body. She felt her skin dissolve back to its natural state and knew she had been healed. “I must return to my green hills now.” Guilda continued, focusing back on Charlie. “I will take my former master with me, he must face a Fairy Tribunal for his crimes.”  
“wait,” Charlie begged before reaching forward and pressing her lips too Guilda’s. As they kissed, pink smoke began to whirl around Guilda’s feet. When their lips parted, she stepped back and smiled before vanishing, along with her former master. Charlie looked up into the air and slumped. “Call me… maybe?”

* * *

The walk back was filled by Charlie asking several questions about Y/N’s sudden ability to bend and manipulate magic. She told her as much as she thought was needed, how her magic had an effect on her that was less than desirable but smiled when she explained Guilda’s work had saved her for now. By the time they made it back to the main tents and Dean changed back into his regular clothes, the day had arrived and everyone around them was buzzing for the battle of Kingdom’s to commence.

“So what’s next for you Charlie? New town? New Identity?” Sam guessed as she walked them to the exit.  
“If the last 24 hours as taught me anything, it’s that escaping isn’t all that it used to be. No more replacement characters from now on. I have to face reality from now on. Sadly reality actually includes monsters. But what you gonna do. If I can ever be of help to you guys, let me know.” They stopped and stood together, smiling gratefully.  
“Will do, and you’re good?” Dean made sure.  
“Apart from the fact that you blocked me from banging a fairy and I’m about to lose my crown in battle thanks to my army being decimated. Yeah, totally good.” They laughed as Charlie began to walk away, stopping last minute to turn and flash her Vulcan salute. “Smell you later bitches.”

They smiled as Charlie disappeared into the crowd. Dean turned to them and shrugged.  
“So now what? And I know, no fun. Before you say anything, I get it. No amount of fun will help you get over what you gave up.” Sam and Y/N both avoided looking at one another as Dean spoke, well aware of the gaping hole in his life Amelia now left in Sam’s life. “You need time, right?”  
“Yeah, thanks.” Sam breathed heavily. “You’re right. Having fun won’t help me. It’ll help all of us.” He turned to look down at Y/N, nudging her side playfully before looking back up at Dean. “Shall we?” Dean and Y/N both looked at each other with giddy excitement and nodded before pulling Sam by the jacket and running off to find Charlie.

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE: Y/N REVEALS HER OUTFIT TO THE GROUP_

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

* * *

They stood on the muddy field, fog in the air and all kingdoms on their own corners. Charlie stood beside her army, including Dean, Sam, and Y/N. Sam pulled his hair back, cloaked in brown and cloaks and boots, with his face painted white and red. Y/N was beside him, kitted in her read layers and leather gloves and smiling up at him as they watched Dean walk along the front of the crowd. With his blond braiding wig handing around his shoulders and half his face painted red, he lifted his voice and spoke to the army.  
“Dying in your beds, many years from now. Would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that, for one chance…”  
“Is that the speech from…?” Charlie whispered to Sam and Y/N.  
“It’s the only one he knows.” Sam shrugged.

“Just one chance! To come back here and tell our enemies that they may take out lives, but they will never take…”  
“Hold!” Another player called. They all turned and looked as a Frisbee landed in the center of the battleground. A man in a hoody ran between them, picking it up and apologizing and groaning faces and moans from the rest of the crowd. Once he ran away, Dean looked back at the man who had called hold, waiting for his nod. He shook his body back into character.

“Our Freeedooommm!!!’ He whirled on his feet as the crowds cheered. They all shouted with power and ran towards the opposite armies, ready to defend the Queen’s crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the men, women, elves, demigods, magi, druids, and chamber pot servants who gave their lives fighting and winning the Queen of Moons in the battle of Kingdoms. Go bravely into the next world called soldiers… ;)


	11. As Time Goes By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets quite a fright when out of their motel closet pops a man claiming to be from the 1950s. It gets even worse when a rather powerful demon follows him and the team discovers this man is in fact Henry Winchester, the boys’ Grandfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely little readers! I don’t know if it’s the strong amount of coffee I’ve digested this morning, but I am so stoked for this chapter! I sometimes get very nervous writing reader inserts for important episodes, worried I’d mess it up or won’t have the energy to put as much detail as is needed. But the motivation stayed with me for this chapter! Enjoy!

It had been a couple of days since the hunters had visited and fought alongside Charlie. High from the win and wanted to further experience their time off, they took in a few movies and stayed in a motel for a couple of nights. No dire stories came on the news or the papers that required their assistance, so they reveled in being lazy for a couple of days. Y/N had a new amount of energy she hadn’t felt since her magic had taken hold of her. Whatever that fairy did for her, it was working. She still avoided using magic, fearful of the next wound or bodily harm she could inflict on herself, but she felt light and awake. The boys also seemed lighter, if not a bit angsty to get back to hunting. Dean drank too much as usual, ate too many fried and greasy foods whilst Y/N and Sam laughed and rolled their eyes from across the table. Over the last couple of days, the three didn’t actually speak too much. They didn’t feel the need to. Content in a happy silence and simply reveling in being within proximity of one another was enough. Y/N often read on the sofa, having treated herself to a new book at last! Dean watched old movies as he ate his way to a new cholesterol level and Sam happily pottered around them, dipping in and out of their activities. But that morning after breakfast they all looked up at one another and nodded in agreement. It was time to get back to work.

So what was the plan? Get washed up and hit the road. Drive-in any direction as Y/N and Sam scanned for a new case. They all took turns showering and freshening up before the drive. Dean sat on a bed, tying up his shoelaces as Sam washed his hands at the sink. Y/N had just finished zipping up her boots and was reaching for her jacket when it all happened so quickly. There was a flash of golden light from the wardrobe. The room suddenly heated up and filled with warmth before a loud bang. The doors swung open and out landing on her feet and hands was a man. His blue suit was uncreased and his black hair was as neat as a new pencil. He looked up at the hunters with wild eyes of alert, like an animal on the run. He looked at the boys each in turn.  
“Which one of you is John Winchester?” He spoke breathlessly. The hunters looked at one another in confusion. The name of the boys’ father always provoked a mixture of emotions, but rarely confusion. The strange man stood from his crouching spot. “Please! Time is of the essence.” He shouted. “Which of you is John Winchester?”  
“Uh, neither,” Sam replied.  
“That’s impossible. That’s absolutely… what did I do wrong?” The man wiped a long his nose, noticing the blood trickling out of it.  
“Who the hell are you?” Dean demanded loudly.  
“Not now, I’m thinking.” The stranger dismissed. Y/N darted her head to Dean, watching as he reacted with anger and frustration. He pushed the man against the wardrobe and locked his arm across his chest. “Please, I can assure you there is no need for violence.” The man spoke calmly. Dean kept his stare, not trusting his words. “One of you must know John Winchester.”  
“Listen, mate, you fell out of our closet. We’re the ones who should be asking questions around here.” Y/N piped up with her arms crossed. The man looked her over, confused by her appearance and gumption. He went over his thoughts quickly in his head and checked his tone of voice.  
“Yes, apologies.” He then turned back to Dean. “Is it absolutely essential sir that you keep your hands on me?” Dean relented, standing back and letting the man have his space. “Gentlemen, lady.” He sniffed. “In the absence of any and all other explanation, I’m afraid this has been a marvel and tragic misunderstanding. I’ll be on my way.” He spoke far too politely for the hunters liking and moved forward with too much confidence.  
“That’s not happening.” Sam countered as he blocked the man’s path.  
“There are things of great importance that you do not understand.” The man tried to argue. Dean reached for the handcuffs and waited for Sam to grab the man's wrist. He struggled, but with the brute force of Sam and Dean, he was held in place. Y/N watched with a keen eye, trying to gauge any information from the man's body language she could.  
“You’re not going anywhere 007.” Dean quipped before moving to cuff the man completely. “Not until we get some answers.” The three men scuffled with one another, trying to trap the man but him resisting. There was the sound of clicks and the locking of cuffs, but it wasn’t the boys who stepped away proudly. The man was free, somehow managing to trap the boys and lock them against a chair. “How’d he do that?” Dean asked. Before anyone had time to react, the man had already fled the room. Y/N stared on with wide eyes at the boy's confused faces. “You gonna help us out or what?” Dean barked. Y/N stumbled back into action, finding the key and releasing them from their imprisonment. The boys continued to wriggle, making the task much harder than it needed to be.  
“Stay still you idiots!” She bellowed at them. Finally, they heard the click, and the hunters were freed. Just in time to hear the crashing of a window.  
“Oh hell no,” Dean muttered, knowing every sound of his Baby. They ran out to see Henry sitting in the driver's seat, ready to flee. Dean lifted his gun through the shattered glass. “Nice taste in wheels.” The man looked up and sighed.  
“Yours I presume.”

.

.

They carried him back to the motel room. Forcing him to sit and go through the usual test. Y/N cut his skin with a blade and Sam sprinkled him with holy water. The man laughed.  
“And there, with the holy water.”  
“He’s clean,” Sam said deeply.  
“I could have told you that.” The man muttered, rolling down his sleeves.  
“Yeah well, you can start by telling us everything, before I beat it out of you.” Dean stepped forward, going on the attack once again. Y/N pushed him back gently with her hand, steadying him with her stare.  
“I’m quite certain this is all above your understanding.” The stranger said patronizingly. “My alpha male monkey friend.” Y/N removed her hand now and let him step forward. “And violence will no allow you to comprehend this any further. Dean grabbed his gun and held the shirt of the stranger before them. Pointing it at him, he glared down with an angry voice.  
“Let me tell you what I understand! Some ass-hat pops out of my closet asking about my Dad. Smashes up my ride! So why am I not getting violent again?”

A wave of shock washed over the man’s face. His eyes wide and his skin going a shade paler.  
“John Winchester is your father?” The confused faces continued to check out one another. The man's response not what they were expecting. But then there was another rumble. As if the earth was moving. Everyone stood back to observe the room.  
“What is that?” Y/N asked. The strange man stood up, turning to look at the closet door.  
“Oh god.” He whispered.  
“What?”  
“Run!” But it was too later. The gold glow and heat returned to the motel room. A flash of light and suddenly a new player entered the game. This time it was a woman. She had dark red hair that was pinned up tightly. With pears and large satin dressed, she looked like she stepped right out of a 1950’s sitcom. At least she would have, if it hadn’t been for the blood-splattered up and down her dress.  
“Henry,” she smirked evilly. Well, at least they now knew the man's name. “Silly man, you forgot to lock the door.” Dean and Sam both lifted their guns. “But then again, spells never were your strong suit were they?” She looked around the room, noting the other inhabitants of the room. “Why don’t you be a doll and give me what I want and I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly.”  
“You know I can’t do that,” Henry replied gravely.  
“You’re not a fighter, Henry.” The woman whispered. Dean lifted his gun, ready to shoot but with the wave of the woman’s hand he went flying across the room. Sam went to copy his brother’s actions but was met with the same fate. With bold eyes, Y/N met the woman’s stare. Screw the impact her magic would have on her. It was better than a slow murder from this strange woman. She flexed her wrist, warming the blood in her hands and ready to shoot it towards the woman in the bloody dress. But before she had a chance to lift her hands, the bloodied woman saw her game. With a quick movement, Y/N went flying across the room, just like the boys. Recovering on the floor they heard Henry tried to flee but was held back by the red-headed woman.  
“Josie, I know you’re still in there. You must fight this.” He begged. But the woman laughed.  
“I’m afraid Josie’s disposed pet.” The hunters looked at one another from across the room. Their instinct said Demon. “It looks like it's just you and me.”

Dean pushed himself off the ground, grabbing his demon knife and plunging it into the demon’s back quickly. Her body flashed as she yelled out in pain and fell to her knees. Everyone gathered to their feet, waiting to see her fall to her death. But she didn’t. She continued to growl as parts of her limbs glowed gold. They heard the wounds heal herself and watched as she cracked her neck. “Well, that is no way to treat a lady.” She gasped.

“Go! Go!” Sam yelled. They all ran from the room, diving into the Impala and racing from the motel parking lot before the demon had a chance to catch up with them.  
“What the hell is going on?” Y/N yelled over the screeching tires.

.

.

They drove to a safe distance before Henry begged for them to pull over. Dean haunted the car along a side road. Henry burst out of the car and buckled over into the grass. The insides of his stomach retched from his mouth and onto the ground. The hunters gathered around and watched the ill man.  
“You okay?” Sam asked.  
“Yes, I will be…..” Henry threw up again. Dean rolled his eyes, never a fan of people with weak stomachs. “It’s just that the adventures I endure are normally of the literature nature.” He informed them, standing and wiping his mouth on the handkerchief in his pocket.  
“Well now you’re done throwing up chunks you mind telling us who Betty Crocker was?” Dean demanded.  
“Abbadon. She’s a demon.”  
“No kidding,” Y/N scoffed. “Where did she come from?”  
“Where’d you come from?” Dean added.  
“She’s from Hell. I’m from Normal Illinois, 1958.”  
“Yeah right,” Dean laughed. But Henry kept his face straight. “Seriously? Dudes time traveling through motel closets? That’s what we’ve come to!” He groaned looking at his other companions. Used to his outburst Sam and Y/N kept their eyes on Henry.  
“If you could just take me to John we can clear all that up.” Henry requested again.  
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Y/N muttered, just loud enough for Henry to hear.  
“Why not?”  
“Because he’s dead!” Dean yelled loudly. That same shocked expression washed over Henry again, except this time it was met with teared-up eyes.  
“No,” he whispered to himself. Turning his back to the other three.

“What’s it to you?” Sam asked.  
“Everything,” Henry said quietly. “I’m his father.”

* * *

The group moved to a diner, in desperate need of charging their batteries with food. Dean and Sam stood at the counter, waiting for their orders and and chatting secretly amongst themselves. Y/N stayed with Henry, glancing between him and the boys. She looked and studied Henry. He stared down at an old black and white photo he kept in his pocket, his eyes filled with sadness and regret. Y/N suddenly felt sorry for the man. The boys had their reasons but it wasn’t exactly the warmest of welcome to their decade. And the brutal information that his man’s son was dead, couldn’t have been easy for him to take it.  
“They can be a bit rough around the edges.” She said quietly. “But they’re good guys.” She smiled when Henry looked up and met her eyes.  
“Are you also… one of John’s children?”  
“Oh no!” Y/N said quickly, blocking the idea that she was Henry’s granddaughter quickly. “I never met John. I’m just a friend of those two big lugs.” She laughed, nodding her head to the boys. Henry looked suspicious between them.  
“Are you married to one of them?”  
“Me? Married… too… no! No, no, no, no, no,” she stuttered with a nervous laugh. Henry looked at her with a cocked eyebrow and she settled her tone. “No. I’m just a friend.”

“Right,” Henry said, not convinced. Before he had time to push the subject further, the boys finally joined them with trays of food. Sam handed Y/N hers and passed her a steaming coffee. Henry noted the way she smiled at him, the way their hands briefly touched, and the fact that Y/N never asked for a coffee. Yet she looked relieved for it sitting in front of her. “Just a friend.” He muttered under his breath.

“How are you doing?” Sam asked Henry, taking the gentler approach.  
“I’ll be okay. After all, despite everything. I’ve just met my grandsons haven't I?” Sam smiled sadly whilst Dean looked down at his food. “Henry Winchester.” He announced, reaching a hand over to Sam.  
“Sam.” He replied shaking his hand. Henry moved his hand towards Y/N who took it and shook gently.  
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N” she smiled.  
“Hello Y/N,” Henry greeted before moving on to Dean. Instead of a warm welcoming hand, Dean put a basket of fries into his grandfather’s hand.  
“Diner.” He announced. Y/N and Sam both rolled their eyes.  
“This is Dean,” Sam informed him.  
“Well, this has been touching. How about we figure out a way to clean up your mess.” Dean said gauntly, taking a bite of his burger.  
“Abbadon,” Henry sighed. “Yes, she must be stopped.”  
“How come she didn’t die when I stabbed her?” Dean asked through a mouthful of food.  
“Because demons can’t be killed by the run of the mill cutlery,” Henry replied sarcastically. “At least you’d need an ancient demon-killing knife of the curds.” Dean lifted his jacket and pulled out his Demon Knife.  
“That’s what this is.” He replied sternly.  
“Where did you get that?” Henry asked in awe.  
“Demon gave it to me.” He smirked.  
“They’ve been around the block a few times.” Y/N smiled proudly.

“Now that portal, or whatever it was that you came through, is it still open?” Sam asked, moving the conversation along.  
“I doubt it. Why?” Henry asked.  
“Just thinking, if we can’t kill this Abbadon…”  
“We can send her back.” Y/N completed his sentence.  
“You strong enough to perform a little magic?” Dean asked. Y/N shrugged and flexed her wrists showman like.  
“Only one way to find out.” She smiled.  
“You? You perform spells and magic?” Henry asked in disbelief.  
“Oh, it’s a long story.” Y/n laughed, grabbing her coffee and drinking it heavily.  
“Well, you’d need my blood. Feather of an angel, tears of a dragon, and a pinch of the sands of time. That and a week to let my soul recharge. But yes, it’s possible.”  
“Wait, what?” Y/N almost choked on her coffee. “You tapped into the power of your soul to get here?”  
“I thought only angels could do that.” Sam continued.  
“You should know this,” Henry said with confusion. “What level are you?” He asked.  
“What level?” Dead repeated.  
“Level of knowledge? You’re Men of letters, correct? With an acceptance?” He asked looking at Y/N awkwardly. She squinted to match his confusion.  
“Little rusty on my boybands.” Dean coughed. “Men of what?”  
“Men of Letters! Like your father who taught you our ways? And I’m assuming yours as well?” He replied to the boys and Y/N. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, thinking about her father briefly.  
“Our father taught us to be hunters,” Sam told them.  
“Same here… kind of.” Y/N continued. “Hunter/witch.” Henry laughed in disbelief.  
“You’re not! Are you? Hunters? Hunters are apes! You’re supposed to be… you’re legacies.” Trying not to be offended the team looked forward at Henry.  
“Legacies of what?” Dean asked.

* * *

The drive was long and not particularly comfortable. Not used to sharing the back seat, Y/N scrunched herself close to her window and tried not to take up too much space. When they finally arrived at the address Henry had given them, Y/N was relieved to stand up and stretch her legs.  
“What’s going on here?” Henry asked himself, walking towards the door of a comic book store called Astro Comics. He lifted his hand and traced over an old worn-out sigil carved into the concrete of the building. But the way Henry looked at it, witch such sadness, Y/N could only guess that once upon a time that sigil was proud and open to the world to see. Now it was scuffed over and would go unnoticed by anyone not looking for it. “No,” Henry shook his head to himself.  
“Well this was enlightening,” Dean sighed. “Let’s hit the road huh?”  
“Give him a minute Dean,” Sam told his brother, watching the distress on his grandfather’s face.  
“We just spent four hours driving! All he did was stare out the window and request Pat Boon on the radio, he had his time.” Dean argued uncaringly.  
“It’s just a facade,” Henry said out loud. “A way to rook our enemies into thinking we are housed elsewhere.” Y/N felt her heart sink for the man, knowing full well that whatever had once been homed inside these brick walls, was no longer.  
“Okay, enough with the decoder talk,” Dean grunted. “How about you tell us what these whole Men of Letters business is, or you’re on your own.” Henry turned to address the hunters.

“It’s none of your concern.”  
“Why? Because we’re hunters?” Dean scoffed. “What you got against us?”  
“Aside from t  
“Hold on,” Y/N said firmly but calmly. “They’re also John Winchester’s sons. Your Grandsons.” She pointed out. Henry looked down ashamed.  
“They were supposed to be more than that.” He sighed. “My father and his father before him were Men of Letters. As John, Dean and Sam should have been. We’re preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all things man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters, the very elite. They do the rest.” Y/N had to admit the slow and calming voice of Henry and the tempo of which he spoke was almost poetic. Speaking so proudly of the group he was apart from, and the disappointment that he wasn’t able to carry it to his son and his children.  
“So you’re like Yoda to our Jedis?” Dean asked. Y/N rolled her eyes and shoved him.  
“He’s not going to understand that reference is he?”  
“Okay, if you guys were such a big deal, then how come we or any other hunter has never heard of you?” Sam asked.  
“Abbadon.” Henry sighed gravely before turning around and walking through the comic book store entrance.

They walked through halls filled with posters and framed pictures from SyFy movies and comic books. The team followed Henry as she paced along the walls hurriedly. Not really knowing where he was going.  
“Henry, why? Why did she do it?” Sam asked when they finally caught up with him.  
“I think for this,” he told them, stopping to a halt and pulling a wooden box out of his pocket. It was just larger than the man’s palm and was engraved with the same sigil that had been scuffed off of the door.  
“What is it?” Y/N asked.

“I wish I knew. Abbadon attacked us the night of my final initiation. All secrets were meant to be revealed then.”  
“let me get this straight.” Dean began in an annoyed voice. “You traveled through time to protect a box that you don’t even know what it does, against a demon you know nothing about?” Henry looked back at the boy and simply nodded before walking on.

They walked into the main room of the shop, attacked colors and electric music. For a second Henry looked overwhelmed, especially by the young girl with purple hair and photic makeup. But he turned back to Sam with broad and strong shoulders.  
“hand me your… walkie talkie thing.”  
“You mean my phone?” Sam asked, reaching it from his pocket.  
“Even better,” Henry replied, taking it from Sam and lifting it to his mouth. “Operator I need Delta 457.” The hunters looked at each other in second-hand embarrassment. Dean rolled his eyes.  
“Who are you not calling?” He asked.  
“Our emergency number.”  
“Yeah,” Dean whispered, taking the phone from Henry’s hand. “Not anymore.” He passed the phone back to his brother and gave a tired look to Y/N, who smiled back kindly.  
“They can’t all be gone! There must be one elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abbadon and figure out what to do with the box.” Y/N rolled her shoulder and coughed loudly as she pushed past the men.  
“Alrighty then.” She said, walking over to the woman with purple hair at the counter. “Hi, I love your top.” She smiled, noticing the cartoon burlesque woman sitting on the words ‘the devil made me do it.’ The other woman smiled at the compliment.  
“Thanks.”  
“Would you mind if we just hijacked your computer for a second? Need to look something up.”  
“Like you could fit a computer in this room.” Henry laughed as he and the boys moved to stand beside Y/N.  
“Ignore him.” Y/N smiled at the girl. She smiled back and turned the laptop towards Y/N.  
“Go for it.”  
“Thanks.” Y/N took the laptop and moved it over to Sam. She caught a glimpse of Henry marveling at the small laptop.  
“Alright, give me a name. Anybody who might have been there that night. One of those elders.” Henry snapped out of his trance and recited the names in his head.  
“uh… Akers, David…. Larry Ganem…”  
“Okay, here it is.” Sam interrupted. “August 12th, 1958, fire at gentlemen’s club 242 Gains street.” As Sam talked Y/N noticed the wandering and smirking eyes of Dean who was wordlessly flirting with the purple-haired girl. Y/N shoved him and gave him the look he’d come far well to acquainted with.  
“That’s here,” Henry said. “But that was no fire.”  
“Larry Ganem, David Akers, Ted Bowen, and Albert Magnus… all deceased.”  
“Albert Magnus…” Henry repeated.  
“He a friend of yours?” Dean asked.  
“better.”

* * *

By now the night had arrived and the hunters, lead by Henry held out flashlights as they maneuvered through a graveyard. They followed Henry to a series of graves when he stopped and lowered his voice.  
“These were my friends. My mentors. Our last defense against the Abbadon’s of the world.” With his low and melody-like tone, Dean put the song to a crashing halt with his jaunty tone.  
“Well, there’s your buddy.” He said, pointing his light to a specific grave, “Albert Magnus.”  
“Albertus Magnus. He was hardly a buddy. He was the greatest Alchemist of the middle ages.”  
“Wait what? Middle Ages? Why’s he buried here?” Y/N asked.  
“He’s not,” Henry replied. “His was the alias we would use when going incognito. I believe someone planted his name in that article so if any man of letters came to look, he’d know something was amiss.”  
“So someone wanted you to come to his grave?” Sam guessed.  
“The question is why…” the stared in silence until a small sigil on the grave caught Dean’s eye. The symbol kept cropping up.  
“What’s this?”  
“Our Crest.” Henry answers. “The Aquarius Star. Represent great magic and power. They say it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself.  
“It’s on all the tombstones accept this one.” Sam pointed out. “Larry Ganem?” Larry had his own symbol etched into his grave. Y/N crouched down.  
“Haitian?” She guessed, looking to Henry who nodded.  
“It’s the symbol for talking to the dead. This is a message. You boys ever exhume a body?”  
“I’ll get the shovels.” Y/N chirped.  
“But… surely such work…” Henry began. But Y/N turned around quickly. The boys both put their hands in their pockets and winced at the words everyone knows were about to make Y/N exploded.  
“If you say such work ‘isn’t fit for a lady,’ you and me are gonna have a problem.” She said with a sarcastic smile. Henry said nothing and diverted his eyes. “Oh… but actually.” She suddenly thought, turning to look at the boys. They both shook their head and groaned in unison.  
“No, Y/N!” Dean sighed.  
“Oh come on, I know the perfect uncovering spell! It would save time and energy.” She insisted. Henry’s eyes lit up as she agreed with her.  
“It would be useful.”  
“Well it won’t be useful when somehow Y/N uncovers all of her organs onto the ground, or all the leftover dirt buries and suffocates her.” Dean quipped. Henry looked at him with bizarre confusion. As if he was speaking a foreign language.  
“Don’t you think you’re overthinking this?” Y/N sighed.  
“It’s not worth the risk, Y/N,” Sam said gently, placing his hand on her elbow quickly. “Not when we can just do it ourselves.” Y/N looked up at his worried face and grunted loudly.  
“Fine! I’ll get the shovels!”

.

.

An hour later, the boys and Y/N were covered in dirt when their shovels finally hit solid ground. Together they all lifted the lid and were met with the far too familiar smell of dust and death. They chucked the lid aside and looked down at the body.  
“Hey was… Was Larry a World War One vet?” Dean asked, taking in the uniform this body had been buried in. Henry shook his head.  
“No,”  
“Well, then who's the stiff?”  
“No idea.” Sam crouched down to examine the body, a shiny metal disk around the body’s neck caught his eyes. He held the metal in his hand, flipping it over to reveal a name. Y/N crouched down beside him balancing herself on his shoulder as she read the name out aloud.  
“Captain Thomas J. Carry the Third.”

“That mean anything to you?” Sam asked. Henry again shook his head.  
“Well someone wanted you to see this,” Dean told him.

“Maybe Larry survived the fire but wanted the world to think he was dead. Took this man's identity and buried him in his place?” Y/N guessed.  
“okay…. Well, what are we waiting for then? Cover this up.” Henry sighed, standing and walking back to the car. The hunters all look at each other and grunted.  
“Great.”

* * *

Now clean and relaxing in the motel, The hunters sat around a table, researching into where they could find this remaining Man of letters or anything about Abbadon. Henry laid back on the sofa and whistled to himself. Dean looked up and squinted  
“What is that? I know that tune.”  
“As time Goes By,” Henry told them.  
“Casablanca.” Y/N smiled, recognizing the song as well. Sam looked over to her and smiled.  
“Dad used to whistle it from time to time.” He reminded his brother.  
“Your father saw Abbott and Costello, Meet the Mummy, at the drive-through one night. Scared the beeswax out of him. So I got him this little music box to sing that song to him at night. Worked like a charm.” Sam laughed to himself.  
“Wow, hard to believe Dad was ever scared of anything.” Y/N smiled sadly at him. She’d only heard stories about the famous John Winchester, but he sounded like a tough man. She rested her hand on Sams, quickly squeezing casually. An act that didn’t go unnoticed by Henry.  
“Right, well.” Dean coughed. “County Records say Tom Carry lives in Lebanon Kansas. A very happy 127 old.” Y/N whistled loudly, amazed anyone could make it to that age. Dean slammed the laptop shut and reached for his beer. “I say we get some shut-eye and go out first thing in the morning.”  
“Wait, wait,” Sam lifted a finger, turning to the journal in his lap. “Listen to this. According to Dad’s journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abbadon. Who, as it turns out, is a knight of hell.”  
“What does that even mean?” Dean grunted.  
“Knights of hell are picked by Lucifer himself,” Henry said coldly. “They were of the first fallen, firstborn demons.”  
“So super strong, super powerful?” Y/N guessed. Henry nodded, moving to his feet to do something about the wave of anxious energy that suddenly slid through his body.  
“Story says that the Archangels killed them all. But after what we have witnessed, that is not the case.”  
“Unless she’s the last of her kind?” Dean guessed. Henry shrugged and stilled himself. His eyes moved around the room and landed back on the journal Sam had before him.  
“You said that belonged to your father?”  
“Yeah,”  
“May I?” Sam wavered for a second before handing it over to Y/N to hand to Henry.

“It’s a hunter’s journal. I assume Men of Letters use Journals too?”  
“I intended to,” Henry said slowly, gently flicking through the pages of John’s book. “I sent away for one the day before my initiation.” He lifted up a small photo of John in his uniform to reveal the letters HW underneath. “And by my initials here, this one I believe.”  
“That was yours?” Dean asked with a solid cold tone. A wave of realization washed over Henry.  
“I'm starting to gather I never make it back from this time, do I?”  
“We don’t know for sure. But what we do know is that dad never saw you again.” Sam said, trying to break the news gently.  
“What did he think happened to me?”  
“He thought you ran out on him,” Dean told him. Sudden dizziness and sick feeling entered Henry’s stomach. He sat down in the chair between Y/N and Sam to steady himself.  
“John was a Legacy. I was supposed to teach him the way of the Letters.”  
“Well, he learned things a little differently,” Dean grumbled.  
“How?”  
“The hard way.” Dean looked, disappointment and aggression in his eyes. “Surviving a lonely childhood. A stinking War! Only to get married and to have his wife taken by a demon. And later killed by one himself. That man got a bum wrap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell lot of more good than he did bad.” Dean leaned forward with every word, closer and closer to the center of the table.  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for him.” Henry apologized, leaning away from the table.  
“Yeah it’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” Dean sniped before lifted himself from his chair and heading towards his jacket.  
“Dean,” Y/N reached out to try and stop him, but Sam’s hand landed on her shoulder and he shook his head slowly. Y/N sighed and slumped into his head.  
“It’s the price we pay for such responsibility.” Henry tried to convince Dean.  
“You’re responsibility was to your family!” Dean shouted back. “Not some glorified book club!”  
“I was a legacy I had no choice.” Dean shook his head and amazement he could defend himself in this way.  
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Dean turned and left the room. Sam and Y/N looked at one another awkwardly, sensing the shame and guilt on Henry’s shoulders. Y/N stood from her seat, tapping Sam on the shoulder to follow her and give the man some space.

.

.

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE AVAILABLE OVER ON MY PATREON! SAM AND Y/N SHARE A COMFORTING MOMENT ALONE BEFORE Y/N SHARES A COMFORTING MOMENT WITH DEAN._

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

.

.

Y/N wasn’t sure what time she had finally fallen asleep, crawled up on the sofa with a book sitting on her lap. She had been so tired she was grateful her slumber was dreamless and simple darkness. She was jolted away when Sam nudged her awake before whacking Dean with a piece of paper in his hand.  
“Hey! Wake up! Henry, he’s gone!” Sam told them.  
“Well, where is he?” Dean grunted as he slowly pushed himself up from the bed with groggy eyes.  
“I dunno!” Sam scoffed. “He just left a note saying he is going to fix everything.”  
“Probably screw everything up.” Dean groaned as he finally got out of bed.

Y/N stretched her body as Dean rushed past her. The last time Henry tried to run from them he smashed up Dean’s car in doing so. He slammed the door as he went to check on Baby. Shaking her head and splashing cold water on her face, Sam came beside her.  
“Sorry for the rude awakening.” He passed her a towel to dry her face. She accepted it was a smile.  
“It’s okay. I wasn’t dreaming anyway. Nothing to take me away from.”  
“How are the nightmares?” Sam asked. He and Y/N hadn’t spoken about her fears of the night for such a long time. She never complained and she was always the last one asleep but the first awake. He wouldn’t even know unless she woke them up screaming in her sleep.  
“Happy to report they’ve been kept at bay. Just inky blackness for now.” She sighed. Sam smiled sadly at her. He took struggled with nightmares but every now and then. he was given a dream. A happy or bizarre dream. A break from the horrors. Y/N had nothing, he had no idea what that must be like. Before he said anything else, the motel door opened again and Dean returned into the room.  
  
“Now we know what he meant by fixing everything!” Sam and Y/N rounded back into the main room of the motel to see what he was talking about. “He broke into the trunk and stole an angel feather. I’m guessing he’s going to whip up another one of those blood spells. Marty Mcfly himself back to the ’50s.”  
“To do what? Stop Abbadon before she strikes?” Y/N asked.  
“Or get dad and haul ass.” Dean scoffed. “Point is, he’s doing it.”  
“How? He still needs to ingredients for the spell.” Sam pointed out.  
“We passed a herbal shop with hunter sigils in the window on our way into town,” Y/N remembered.

From the laptop, the police scanner the team had set up in case of emergencies rang into action suddenly. In orange typed letters are the words:

_POSSIBLE HOMICIDE AT ASTRO COMICS 1 VICTIM_

_VICTIM, FEMALE_

_3 UNITS ON SCENE,_

_EMS, FORESEICS, DETECITVIE ENROUTE_

_CORNER DISPATCHED_

_LOCATION IS A RETAIL STORE_

“Abbadon?” Dean asked as they walked towards the laptop.  
“has to be,” Sam replied.  
“Okay, so she’s close.” Y/N guessed, before turning to Dean. “You got find Henry, we’ll find Larry and figure out if there’s a way to kill her? Deal?”  
“Deal.”

* * *

T

hey followed the address to the house that now housed a retired Larry Ganem. Y/N almost took the time to smile looking up at the house. It was rather a fairy tale-like. Painted white with light blue accents and panels surrounding the windows. A rusting fence around the front, holding back wild-growing bushes and vines. After introducing themselves and sitting down in the living room, they took in the contrasting colors of the interior. Where the outside had been cool and blue, the inside was a combination of creams and warm browns. Larry sat on a large brown fabric chair, eyes not focussing on anything in particular. Y/N looked around and saw a walking skin with a black handle. Henry was clearly blind. But he seemed to do well. He had his wife alongside him, red hair and stripy cardigan pottering around and pouring everyone with cups of tea. Sam and Y/N sat on the long sofa opposite Larry. They found it easier to stretch the truth somewhat. Saying Henry had died and Sam had come across his grandfather’s diary after a brutal fight against Abbadon. They told the man they’d come to him for more answers, which in itself wasn’t a lie.  
“So Henry is dead.” The man said in a gravely aged voice. “I was so sure… that he had survived.” He shook his head in disbelief.  
“Yes, well… like I said.” Sam moved the conversation along. “I found his journal and was hoping you could fill in the gaps and explain to us what happened that night in 1958.” The older man scoffed.  
“It doesn’t matter.” He said bitterly. “They’re gone! We’re gone!”  
“But Abbadon is not,” Y/N answered severely.  
“Abbadon was a hired gun.” The man sighed. “She killed us all that one night.”  
“Everyone but you?” Y/N asked.  
“She blinded me!” Larry pointed out, lifting a finger to his eye. “It’s a miracle I survived!” Sensing the emotion bubbling in her husband's voice, she came round beside him, placing her hand out to soothe his skin.  
“It’s alright dear.” She said calmingly. Larry laughed, kissing the skin of her hand before turning back to their visitors.  
“But she did not get what she came for.”  
“The box.” Sam realized. “Listen, Abbadon is here! And she wants this thing so we need to know everything there is to know about it.” He insisted. Larry straighter his spine, the tension in his posture coming through with this voice.  
“In the box, is a key to every scroll, spell! Anything collected in a thousand years under one roof.” The hunters thought back the gasp but couldn’t stop their widening eyes. The thought of such an arsenal. The people they could save, the monsters they could stop. Y/N’s fingers tingled with lessons of magic she could learn. The possibility of finding something to break this awful curse she was currently locked in. Sam looked to his left to match her face. He was thinking the exact same thing. “It is the supernatural motherlode.”

They set his words to sink in before finally moving back into action, filled with questions and possible action plans.  
“So Abbadon wants the key so she can get her hands on it?” Sam guessed. Larry began to chuckle deep in his throat.  
“Can you imagine what she would do with that?”  
“So how do we stop her?” Y/N asked.  
“You don’t,” Larry said simply. He pulled out a piece of paper with a pen and began writing. “If you have the key, then take it to these co-ordinates.” He pushed the paper forward for Y/N to take. She showed the numbers and letters to same as Larry continued to talk. “Throw it in, shut the door forever! Walk away!” |  
“Wait,” Sam stumbled. “Why would we do that?”  
“Because it is the safest place on earth. Warded against every evil ever created. It is impervious to any entry accept the key.”  
“But then all the knowledge,” Y/N said quietly.  
“It would be gone, lost forever.” Sam finished loudly.  
“And that is the price we have to pay, to protect it from Abbadon.” Sam and Y/N couldn’t fight the shocked and disappointed expressions on their faces. If they had a way to stop Abbadon, then this could be the ultimate game-changer for hunters. The number of lives that could be saved. How could this man think that sacrifice is worth it. “You do have the key? Don’t you?” Larry asked.  
“We don’t.” Sam said, “But, my brother does.” He continued as he and Y/N began to stand. Larry’s wife moved with them, standing and keeping her eyes on the pair. She stepped forward towards the two.  
“How rude,” she said. “You haven't finished your tea.” She said bitterly before blinking her eyes black. It was Abbadon. She swung her fist and knocked Sam unconscious onto the floor.  
“Sam!” Y/N yelled, about to crouch down to him. But Abbadon took her by the throat and laughed. She squeezed her grip slowly, Y/N choked, trying to flex her hands and magic to her defense but the inky blackness quickly encased her vision, her ears blocking as if drowning underwater. And then everything went still.

* * *

Y/N woke up facing the cold hard and went ground. Her hands were tied together, scrunched into her stomach. Her head felt fuzzy as she slowly began to become aware of her surroundings. Pushing herself up to kneeling she saw the insides of an old abandoned factory. The concrete walls and wide windows being a clear sign. As she looked around she saw Sam slumped in the corner, his hands were also tied.  
“Sam!” She gasped, struggling to standing and running beside him. “Sam, wake up!” She cried. Relieved to hear him grunt and watch his eyes open slowly.  
“Y/N?” He whispered.  
“It’s me, I’m here.”  
“Where are we?” As she began looking around. “Abbadon.” He suddenly jolted. The memories flooding back to him. The two used each other’s weight to help them to stand before they heard a door slam open and shut.  
“You’re awake. Finally!” Abbadon strutted in. Y/N looked down at the top she was wearing. She recognized the illustrated woman sitting along with the words ‘the devil made me do it.’ Along with the leather jacket, y/n realized whose body Abbadon was currently using. Y/N sighed heavily, thinking of the young girl who stood no chance. As the hunters stared at the demon across from them, they heard the unmistakable purr of the impala, along with seeing the light from the car’s headlights.  
“Dean,” Y/N whispered. Abadon strutted closer and pulled the two hunters to stand by her side.  
“Don’t move.” She ordered them. They waited until they heard the sound of another door open and close. Dean walked around the corner, holding a captive Henry in his grips. Y/N and Sam both looked over at the pair, not quite believing Dean would do such a thing.  
“Don’t do it, Dean,” Henry grumbled to him.  
“Too late now.” He replied coldly.

“That’s the problem with all you hunters. So short-sighted.” Henry argued back.  
“yeah well, at least we’re not extinct. Abbadon!” He called over. “I’ll send Henry here over with the box!” He lifted the desired box in the air to show her. “You do the same with Sam and Y/N. No tricks!” He ordered, placing the box into Henry’s pocket.  
“My only interest is Henry and the key,” Abbadon called over. “You three are free to go.” Dean nodded and shoved Henry a step forward. But he didn’t move.  
“You can do this walking or crawl,” Dean told him, pulling out his gun. “Your call.” Henry looked the man up and down before starting his walk forward. Abbadon shoved the two hunters forward for their own journey. Y/N and Sam both hurried across the floor, slowing down only when they reached Henry.  
“Henry I’m sorry.” Sam apologized.  
“Save it,” Henry grumbled as he continued walking. Y/N and Sam hurried quicker over to Dean.  
“Dean, don’t do this,” Y/N begged.  
“Shut your mouth and let’s go.” He told them as he pulled out a knife and freed their hands from the rope. They followed his instruction and turned to leave, but before they could, the doors around the shut and locked. They turned back to Abbadon.  
“We had a deal!” Dean yelled.  
“Surprise, I lied.” Abbadon laughed cheerfully. She turned suddenly to her left and plunged her hand into the stomach of Henry, a fatal blow.  
“Henry!” Sam called.  
“Wait!” Dean whispered whilst he and Y/N held Sam back from running to the mains aid. They watched as Henry released himself from the cuffs Dean had trapped him in, or had pretended to trap him in.  
“You’re not the only one.” He said to the demon woman, before pulling out his gun and shooting her from the chin upwards. The bang echoed through the air, along with splats of blood. But Abbadon remained upright, laughing and smiling at the sudden rush. Y/N looked at Dean confused. Surely they knew a bullet would do nothing to harm Abbadon.  
“Woah! What a blast!” Abbadon called. “Now give me the box.” She rolled her eyes, reaching into Henry’s pocket. She felt the square shape in her hand, but when she retried it, she was met with the jaunty face of a jester. The joker. A simple deck of playing cards. She looked back at Dean, realizing the deception. “Where is it?” She screamed, making the walls shake and lighting rupture in the end. The hunters stayed still. “Fine, we can do this the hard way.” She told them, grabbing Henry’s face and attempting to blow her black smoke into his body, to see whatever he has seen. But there was a lock, her powers refused to move further than the vicinity of her own body. She grunted angrily, throwing Henry to the floor. Dean finally let Sam go as they all rushed to his side. Sam wrapped his arms around the man to sit him up, whilst always keeping an eye on Abbadon. She was trapped, unable to move from her stance. “Why can’t a move!” She screamed again.  
“Devils trap carved into a bullet,” Henry smirked at the still demon, forcing her to focus on him.  
“You still didn’t kill me.” She chuckled. Her arrogance was her downfall as she didn’t notice the hunter rounding behind her. Dean swung his arms back, and his machete sliced Abbadon’s head clean off.  
“No, but you’ll wish we did.” Y/N jumped as the body fell to the floor and the head rolled. “That demon trap in your noggin will keep you from smoking out. We’re going to cut you into little stakes and then bury each strip under cement. You may not be dead but you’ll wish you were.” Sam and Y/N both looked a Dean with wide eyes until Henry managed to croak out some words.  
“You did it.” He smiled. The two standing hunters joined Sam and Henry on the floor, crouching beside him.  
“No, you did it. For a bookworm that wasn’t half bad Henry.” Dean offered kindly. Henry smiled thankfully.  
“I’m sorry I judged you so harshly for being hunters. I should have known better.”  
“About?” Sam asked.  
“You’re also Winchesters. Winchesters pick good friends.” He offered, turning to Y/N who was smiling kindly but fighting back the tears. “And as long as we’re alive, there’s always hope. I didn’t know my son as a man, but having met you two.” He reached out to grab Dean's hand before using his other to grab Sam. “I know I would have been proud of him.” Y/N felt the tears rushing over her cheeks when managed to cough out her own words.  
“Let me try and heal you.” She begged, her hands beginning to glow gold. But Henry shook his head with a forced smile.  
“No,” he whispered. “This isn’t my world anymore. I’m ready to go.” He slumped back into Sam's embrace, blood dripping from his mouth and eyes glazing over. Y/N let out a sob, still allowing her magic to pour in her hands. But Dean reached out a hand to his shoulder, shaking his head. Y/N slumped and let her hands fall to her sides. It was too late.

* * *

They returned to the graveyard that laid the final resting place of several Men of Letters. Sam finished hammering in the makeshift tomb that bore the name ‘Henry Winchester.’ He stood back and joined Y/N and Dean’s side and sighed heavily.  
“I get it now, what cupid said. About Heaven busting ass to get mom and dad together. Winchesters and the Campbells, the brains and the brawn.” Y/N didn’t ask her questions, knowing the emotional moment of reflection the two boys would be going through right now. Instead, she reached out to squeeze Sam’s hand tightly.  
“I’m glad you do, ‘cus I don’t.” Dean sighed. “All I see in our family tree is a whole lot of dead.” Dean pulled out a small picture from his jacket pocket and showed it to the other two.  
“I found this in Henry’s wallet.” They looked closely at the black and white photo, showing Henry and a young smiling boy by his feet. John Winchester as a child.  
“They look happy.” Y/N smiled to herself.  
“Makes you wish her knew the truth. All his life think he’d run out on him. When the poor son of a bitch really came here and saved our bacon. Friggin time travel man.” Dean grunted, taking back the photo and putting it back in his pocket.  
“You think it would have made a difference?” Sam asked. “If Dad had had his own father around.”  
“What in the way he raised us? Sammy, he did the best he could.” Dean instead.  
“I know that I do. They all did.” Sam reassured his brother. He pulled out the coordinates given to them by Larry.  
“What are the chances that place is still standing?” Dean asked.  
“Chance we’ve got to take,” Y/N told the, reaching her other hand for Dean’s. She looked down and smiled back at her. “You are legacies after all.” She winked. 


	12. Everyone Hates Hitler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the team finds the home hub of the Men of Letters, they discover a case surrounding a group of Nazi Necromancers. We see Sam and Y/N slowly begin their way back to the relationship they once had but never thought they would return to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bunker has finally arrived!

Y/N took Betty and drove behind the Impala as they headed towards the coordinates given to them by the now-deceased Man of Letters. It felt good to be in the driver's seat at last. She had spent so much time huddled in the back seat as Dean took charge of driving. And since it made sense to only take one car, Betty had been gathering dust in a nearby garage. But since they were heading to what was told to be ‘the safest place on the planet,’ Y/N thought now was as good a time as any to find a more permanent home for her car. The wheels rolled against the hard tarmac and there was a melody of engine sounds coming from both classic cars. Y/N blasted her favorite playlist of music, finally in charge of the tunes and happy to not listen to the same 5 albums on repeat. She felt so free she gifted herself a moment to slide down her window and let her hand dangle out, dance, and weave in-between gusts of wind and air. Sam spotted her actions in the rearview mirror and chuckled to himself, nudging Dean lightly to prompt him to have a look as well. Dean laughed and rolled down his window, mimicking Y/N’s arm movement in mockery. Y/N honked her horn loudly and presented the boys with a friendly middle finger.

An hour or so later, Y/N saw the indicator on Dean’s car blink, telling her he was pulling over. They were in the middle of nowhere and all she could see was one large building so grey it almost blended into the trees that surrounded it. There was a small door at the bottom of a few steps clear for anyone to see. The cars came to a stop and everyone swung their legs out and into the cold morning air. They walked and met in front of the door, taking in the old bricks and rusted metal.  
“When was the last time someone was in this place?” Dean thought out loud.  
“65/70 years ago?” Sam guessed. Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out the small box that Abbadon had been hell-bent on getting her hands on. He slid it open and saw the bold and old key looking back up at them. Making their way down the steps, looking around to see if anyone had followed them or could be seen, Dean pushed the key into the lock. As it turned, there was an odd sensation on his grip. It wasn’t like putting a normal key in a lock. He couldn’t feel the grooves of the key sitting comfortably into their desired inputs. It was like the metal fused with the lock, a tingling of vibrations as the two metals conversed and agreed that this was friend, no foe. Any resistance from the door was freed and the trio stepped inside.

It was dark and less than a friendly welcome. It was cold and had a musky smell of dust in desperate need of clearing. The squeak of the metal door closed behind them as each hunter pulled out their flashlights. They were standing at the top of a spiral of stairs. Walking towards the banister they were given a small glimpse of the world they had just entered. With their small lights, they scanned the floor and saw genuine equipment used years ago.  
“Vintage,” Y/N smirked to herself.  
“Ham radio, telegraph, switchboard! This was their nerve center.” Sam chuckled amusingly.  
“Well, Henry did say they ran dispatch on their own group of hunters.” Dean reminded them, taking in the old instruments before them. Cautiously they descended the metal stairs to get a closer look at the interior. As the boys looked at the old communication equipment, Y/N’s eyes were drawn to a small table in the corner. There were too red and dusty leather chairs facing a chessboard. Pieces were positioned all over the board, clearly a game unfinished. Alongside there was a large tray of discarded cigarette butts and stale molding cups of unfinished coffee. Y/N lifted the cup and felt a wave of sadness go through her body. These were whispers, echos of lives most likely cut shut. Lives of people no longer of this world, but of those who had aided in the protection of humankind. Most likely never thanked and remaining nameless. She felt said seeing these footprints of a story she would never read or understand. Without seeing her, Sam felt the icy sadness radiate from Y/N and he moved to her side. He saw her looking down at the discarded table and had the same thoughts she must have been having. Whoever sat in these chairs left in a hurry, most likely for a fatal reason. Y/N felt the warmth of Sam and turned her head to look up at him and smile slightly.  
“Didn’t even finish their coffee.” She smiled sadly, lifting and showing him the cup. Sam nodded in gentle understanding and placed his free hand on her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly as she put the cup exactly where she had found it.

As the other two we preoccupied with moments of the past, Dean was focused on the present. He scanned the walls until he found what looked like an old control board. He opened it up and saw a collection of switches. He took a guess and lifted the first one he could see. There was a rumble and hum of electricity as the lights began to switch on and machines came to life. Concrete walls came into view and now they could see the aged equipment much clearly. Sam looked around, removing his hand from Y/N’s arms, and laughed slightly at his surroundings. Dean flicked another switch and from the back into the darkness came more light.  
“Son of a bitch.” Sam mumbled. They stepped further into the room and realized they had found a much bigger space than they had thought. It was like a library. Shelves and shelves of books swam for miles in front of them. There were tables and desks for studies. Draws filled with secrets and cases holding items no one had a clue about. The hunters knew that there was defiantly more to be discovered as they took in their now warm surroundings.  
“I think we found the bat cave,” Dean uttered in awe.

.

.

They had spent the rest of the day exploring the new hub they had discovered. It was larger and more vast than anyone had expected. There was a kitchen, a large storage cool room for extra fridge space. A laundry room, a room filled with baths and sinks. A separate room with showers. Countless rooms of books and artifacts and a long line of bedrooms. The hunters each claimed one for themselves, in excited shock that there was a chance of getting a night’s sleep alone!

It had been an odd experience. Gathering under cold uncreased sheets and staring at the uncharacteristic interior of her room. There was no horrendous color scheme or art picked out by motel managers. There wasn’t even the damp smell most motel rooms they encountered had. But all of that Y/N could manage. The clinical feel wasn’t an uncommon situation for some motel rooms. What was off was the silence. There was no movie playing quietly on the tv that Dean would occasionally laugh or mutter to himself. There was no sound of tapping on a keyboard as Sam typed and researched away. There were no bickering arguments between brothers. There was no snoring from her left and right. Loud snoring from Dean, light from Sam. It was silent. No sounds or noises to protect Y/N from her overcomplicated mind rambling and crawling to the corners of darkness she tried so hard to avoid. By the time she was finally asleep, there was not the smallest thing to stop her brain from going to the places she wished it wouldn’t go. She had endless nights of dreamless sleep and she had been grateful for it. But now, just as it had a year or so ago, the faces and screams came back into the light. One after another they emerged from the darkness, dragging Y/N to relive these deaths. All the time the victims screaming and begging for help to only turn angry and demand answers as to why Y/N couldn’t have saved them. Demanding to know why she wasn’t good enough! When her body finally jolted awake her body was covered in sweat, cheeks stained with tears and heart-pounding faster than comfortable. Y/N cried out in her sudden alertness and looked around her. She didn’t recognize her surroundings. She just saw brick walls and emotionless furnishings. Was she in a prison? Trapped? Where was she? Where was Sam? Dean?

With each slow breath she forced herself to take, it quickly all came back to her. Where she was and what had to lead her here. She was safe. It was just a bad dream.

Desperate for company, Y/N swung her legs out of bed and left her room. She walked barefoot a long the cool tiles of the hall and listened for any sign of life. She passed the shower room and heard the loud cheery singing of Dean over the sound of water spray. She giggled to herself and felt warmth return to her body. The more she walked, the sound of light music began to fly into her ears. When she walked up the steps towards the main center of the bunker, she could hear Sam pottering about and moving from bookcase to bookcase. Y/N hummed happily to herself as she moved towards the kitchen. The day before she had done a quick supply run to get enough food to last them a couple of days. She made a fresh pot of coffee and poured three mugs, carrying them back to the library, where her theory had been proven correct. Besides a dictaphone releasing old merry tunes, Sam was bustlingly around looking through piles of books and pieces of paper.

Sam heard the clinking of mugs as Y/N approached the table he was standing up. He looked up and spoke before thinking of the consequences. He was stunned by the bags and tired eyes looking up at him.  
“Wow, you look… tired.” Y/N scoffed back in reply, setting the mugs down before handing him one.  
“Thanks.” She laughed.

“Sorry! I… I, uh, just,”  
“It’s fine.” Y/N laughed at his stuttering. “I am tired.”  
“Didn’t sleep well?” Sam asked taking a deep sip of coffee.  
“I’ve slept better. You?”  
“Yeah, Same. Turns out Dean’s snoring has a kind of lullaby effect on me.” He smirked. Y/N laughed and nodded her head.  
“I know what you mean.” She agreed, taking a big gulp off her coffee. Sam watched her cautiously, observing the bags under her eyes.  
“Is it… err… the nightmares? They back?” He questioned gently. Y/N looked up, scrambling for an answer that wasn’t ‘yes.’ She knew Sam worried about her more since her powers cursed her. If she told him she wasn’t sleeping because of nightmares, then god knows how much pottering around her would happen. He’d tell Dean and they’d start trying to protect her, overprotecting her more like.  
“The water pressure in the Letter’s shower room is marvelous!” Dean’s jaunty voice interrupted their conversation so Y/N didn’t need to search for an answer. She sighed with relief and turned to him with a cup of coffee. He took it was hungry hands and a smile.  
“Yeah… I uh… I still can’t figure out how we even have water. Or electricity.” Sam grumbled, turning back to his books. Y/N pulled out a chair and settled into her seat with her coffee warming her hands.  
“Well, I am putting that under the ‘ain’t broke’ column.” Dean declared, having a brief look through Sam’s reading material. “Listen, little brother, let’s not go all geek on this stuff. Okay?” Y/N laughed as Sam turned around with an offended look on his face.  
“Geek?” Sam asked.  
“Yeah, don’t get me wrong. This stuff is awesome.” Dean deafened himself as he wandered over to a bookshelf that proudly homed a large sword. “And it looks like they kept a pretty tight ship.” He continued as he picked up the blade. Sam had turned his back to his big brother to carry on his research. “But don’t think they had some big secrets that we don’t know,” Dean mumbled, spreading his legs into a fighter's spread and pretending to get ready to attack Y/N. She giggled when Sam turned around just before Dean could fully get into character.  
“Dean! They were a secret society.”  
“Which means that they made crap up!” Dean instead. “And wore sashes and fezzes and swung around scimitars!” Y/N watched as Dean moved his focus not the sword in his hands and could already tell this encounter would lead to an accident. “They probably didn’t even sharpen…” Dean stopped his sentence and pulled his hand away like he had been burnt. In reality, he had been cut. “That’s very sharp.” She informed the rest of the group as he put the sword back down. Y/N rolled her eyes and stood from her seat, moving towards Dean to take a look at his hand.  
“Dean, look. I think we might have something here.” Sam spoke as Y/N inspected his hand. She looked at the red cut across Dean’s finger slowly oozing out blood. It was no more than a paper cut really. “Something that could help us! Help society! Henry at least thought so! You know as well as I do that we could use a break! What if we finally got one?” As Dean turned his attention to his lecturing little brother, Y/N ran her thumb over the cut on Dean’s hand and under her breath whispered.  
“Sano.” When her fingers lifted Dean’s skin was healed as if never tarnished. Dean looked down at her when she suddenly pulled her hand away in pain. The cut appeared on her own hand, but before Dean had a chance to point this out to Sam, Y/N looked him up and down and scoffed ready to deflect. “You ever gonna take off the dead guy robe?”

.

.

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE OVER ON PATREON. Y/N AND SAM HAVE DINNER!_

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

_._

_._

It had been a couple of days since Dean had left the bunker to go check on Garth and Kevin, to see if any progress with the tablet had been made. When he returned he found Sam and Y/N sitting in the same spot he had left them. In the library with their laptops and a series of books in front of them. They were laughing when the sound of the door shutting interrupted them and alerted them to Dean’s return.

“Hey!” Y/N called when she saw him. “How’s Kevin doing?”  
“you know, he’s okay I guess. In his corner hacking out his Divinci code.” Dean joked as he set his bags down and moved to the small mini-fridge he’d set up a couple of days ago. “Nothing actionable yet. Garth says hi by the way.” He smiled pulling out a beer. “Anything from Cas?”  
“No. Not a peep. Why you?” Sam replied.  
“No… he errs… not answering,” Dean said with regretful sadness in his voice. But he shook it off as took a deep glug of his beer and sat down.  
“Right well, we’ve been trying to chart out the Letter’s network of hunters, their allies, supplies, known affiliations…”  
“Circuit since 1958?” Dean scoffed at his brother.  
“Yes, most of them are either dead or debunked,” Y/N replied to his smirk and snide comment. “But there’s one we should defiantly check out.” She nodded. Sam threw over a file that Dean opened and read out loud.

“The Jewda initiative?”  
“European team, they were active during World War Two.”  
“Really? Hunters fighting in a war. That’s cool.” Dean smiled.  
“Not exactly hunters.” Y/N corrected him, pointing to an old photograph of a group of men for Dean to look at.  
“Rabbis?” Dean looked up, waiting for the joke to land but Y/N and Sam just shrugged. “Really?”

“The Letter’s file on them is sketchy but apparently they were hardcore saboteurs.” Y/N grinned excitingly.  
“So I did a search on the entire Jewda’s roster and found…” Sam continued, typing rapidly on his laptop suddenly. “One Rabbi Isac Bass. He was 17 years old when he joined the initiative and was 85 when he died.” Sam swirled the laptop around for Dean to look at an online article with a picture of the now-deceased along with the title ‘FREAK ACCIDENT ON CAMPUS.’

“He was doing research on campus. But according to witnesses he spontaneously combusted.” Y/N repeated, reaching over for her cup of coffee and drinking the tepid drink.  
“well, you two certainly have been busy,” Dean observed gruffly. “So this is a case?”  
“Yup! And a possible witchy one. People don’t just go up in flames in the local drinking den without a little magic at hand.” Y/N smiled, waving her hand around. That was when Dean shut the file and rolled his eyes.  
“You need to cool it with all of that stuff.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You think I haven't noticed? That we haven’t noticed?” Dean waved his hand bath and forth between himself and Sam.  
“Noticed what?” Y/N asked defensively.  
“You said you were going to slow down with the whole magic crap! Considering you have no idea what the next spell is going to do to you. And for weeks now you’ve ignored us! You’ve been jumping to cast spells and risk your life!” He roared angrily.  
“That is not true,” Y/N argued back. “I only did those spells when we had no other choice! Back when Crowley had Alfie! There was no way we were getting through those doors without my magic! Besides, it’s my magic! I know the consequences, it’s my choice!”  
“Oh do you? Do you know the consequences?” Dean challenged, met with a confused stare back from Y/N and Sam.  
“You didn’t even hesitate to try and heal Henry last week. I’m guessing you hadn’t yet realized what reproductions heal spells have on your body?” He yelled, waving his own hand in her face. Y/N ducked her head as she realized what Dean was talking about.  
“What are you on about?” Sam asked.  
“When I cut my hand, Y/N healed it. She thought she’d hidden from me the fact that the exact cut on my hand appeared on hers! She doesn’t just heal, she takes on the wound! Meaning if you tried to heal Henry you would have died!” Sam darted his eyes to Y/N who was looking down at the ground stubbornly.  
“I didn’t know that would happen.” She muttered.  
“That’s the point, Y/N!” Sam sighed loudly. “You don’t know! You don’t know what’s going to happen to you when you cast the next spell. If you’d healed Henry we would have lost you!” Sam’s anger matched Dean's as the two red faced men stared down at Y/N. Y/N looked up and saw the frustration and worry in their faces, and felt guilt. But instead of apologizing she stood up to full height and glared down at them.  
“This is why I never planned to tell you.” She stated coldly before turning around and heading to her room, ready to pack for their next case.

When they heard the door slam, both men’s shoulders slumped heavily.  
“And I just got back.” Dean wined.

* * *

They took the Impala despite Y/N’s arguments that she would rather drive alone. The silent drive ended when Dean pulled up by the campus library and left Y/N and Sam to see if they could figure out what the Rabbi had been researching the day he died. Meanwhile, Dean would go and interview witnesses to the man's death. They walked up the steps in the cold and into the warmth of the inside.

“So you worked with the late Rabbi Bass?” The receptionist asked.  
“We were research associates.” Y/N smiled sweetly. “We’re hoping to finish his last paper for publication.”

“We’d just like to review whatever he was after here.” Sam agreed.  
“Well, that would be a lot of material. He was here open to close for almost a week.” The bald head man informed them coldly as he looked down at his computer. Sam and Y/N both looked at each other, not expecting that answer.  
“Wow, well, umm. How about just the stuff he was looking at the day he… died.” Sam suggested instead. The bald man now looked up, the expression not changing.  
“That does shorten the list a bit.” The man began to walk away, prompting Y/N and Sam to follow him. They rushed on after him, side-eyeing one another with their steps.

The receptionist took them to a table and handed them each a pair of white gloves, to protect whatever book the Rabbi had been looking into. He left them, in their place, saying someone would be along shortly with the research material.  
“Well, he’s friendly.” Y/N joked once he was out of earshot. Sam laughed along and nodded. Their eyes met and Y/N could see the lecture he wanted to give but wasn’t about to. “I’m being careful.” She insisted.  
“Are you?” He asked quietly. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re going on as normal.” Y/N sighed and slumped into herself. “I’m not having a go, really I’m not!” Sam insisted. “But, you’re kind of… family now. And we’re done losing our family.” Y/N wasn’t expecting the heartfelt warmth to come from Sam, instead, the brute-forced that she usually got from Dean. She certainly hadn’t expected him to refer to her as family. She felt her cheeks heat at the sentiment. She smiled back in silent agreement to try and be more careful.  
“You look like a serial killer dressed in tweed and white gloves.” She gagged. Sam looked down at himself and laughed.  
“At least I don’t look like a magician’s assistant.” He countered, motioning towards the v-neck top and skirt Y/N was wearing.

The pair were still laughing when the woman approached them with a large box in hand. They thanked her as she left them.  
“Right then, box FD113. Let’s see what the good Rabbi was looking at.” Y/N chirped before opening the box up. She looked down at the contest and squinted with confusion.  
“What? What is it?” Sam asked. She lifted up the book and showed him the cover. ‘The Explorers Guide to North American Birds.’

.

.

They had no idea what the birdwatching book meant. From what they could tell it was either a mistake on the library’s hand or a clue that would make sense later in their journey with the late Rabbi Bass. But for now, they had to hope Dean had been more successful on his side of the interrogation. They closed up in the library and left the building, Sam phoning Dean as they swung the doors open.  
  
“Hey, so we looked into the Rabbi’s research. Doesn’t make a lot of sense um…” Y/N stopped when she saw Sam waver on his feet and look behind her. When she turned she saw nothing out of the ordinary but by the look on his face, something was off. “Bird watching.”  
“Huh,” Y/N heard Dean’s voice faintly over the phone as they began walking again. “Well, the two very hot co-captains agree that the Rabbi’s death was very unnatural. I think we still have a case.”  
“That would explain why I have something stuck to my shoe,” Sam uttered. Y/N moved her head around her surroundings again, noticing the faint movement of someone standing behind a wall. They were being followed.  
“You being followed?” Dean asked.  
“Yeah think so,” Sam answered, looking down to Y/N to see if she had caught on.  
“That’s weird, I thought I was being followed earlier. Turned out to be a gay thing.” Y/N squinted humorously when she heard the last couple of words of Dean’s sentence. Sam matched her expression.  
“What?”  
“Nothing. You need a hand?”  
“Yeah, please. You got somewhere quiet?”

.

.

They walked to the visitor's parking of the college. By the time they got there and spotted the Impala, it was dark, perfect for an unexpected attack. The plan was simple. Sam and Y/N would loiter around the car, assuming that someone would be watching them. Dean would hide around the back out of sight and see if he could spot whoever was tailing them. They were hovering around the car, Sam pretending to reach for his keys and drop them. Y/N looked away as he reached down to pick them up, continuing to feign ignorance. Sam stood back up and smiled at her casually, but his kind face dropped when they heard the increasing groans of Dean. It was as if he was coming closer and closer to them. He looked behind and watched as his body flew through the air and landed on another car, smashing the glass of the window.  
“What the…” Y/N and Sam looked around. Trying to find the culprit. They heard heavy footsteps from close by and soon saw a heavyset man approaching them. Sam could see the warm glow from the corner of his eye, knowing Y/N’s first resort would be to use her powers. He manhandled his keys, quickly unlocking the boot to retried a weapon before Y/N could get a chance to form any harm on the assailant and herself. He grabbed and swung a knife just in time to see the large man standing right in front of them. Any thoughts of self-defense were dropped in Y/N’s mind as she stared in shock. As the man got closer, he got bigger and bigger. By the time he was in front of her, she realized he was nothing far off a giant. Sam’s blade dug into the creature's raised hand but had no effect. It went into his skin but appeared to have no effect on him. The large man turned his aggression now to Sam by holding him in the air by his throat.  
“Sam!” Y/N called in fear.  
“Stop.” A new voice called out calmly. From the shadows a much smaller man, with a beard and scarf hanging around his neck loosely. The giant followed his instruction immediately, dropping Sam back to his feet. Y/N’s hands were fussing around his shoulders and neck immediately, checking for bruising.  
“What the hell is that?” Sam cracked to the new gentlemen, resting his hands on Y/N’s arms, reassuring her he was fine.  
“He’s a Gollum.” The man said flatly. “Well, he’s my Gollum.” Y/N’s steadied her hands, letting them lull on Sam’s shoulders as she turned her head and took in the giant man again.  
“Right.”  
“Oh, my spleen.” They heard Dean whine as he rolled off of his back.

* * *

They followed the man back to his home and discovered his name was Erin.  
“The Rabbi that was murdered, Rabbi Bass, was my grandfather. That’s why we’re here.” He told them as they walked into his house. The Gollum pushed past Erin and began circling around the rooms. Patrolling and checking for any unwelcome parties. “When you guys started to follow up on his case, we started to follow you.”  
“So what you’re saying is you and me… we didn’t have a moment?” Dean asked awkwardly. Y/N fought back her laugh when Erin looked at Dean like he was an idiot.  
“No dude, I was tailing you.”  
“Told you I was being followed.” Dean turned to his fellow hunters. “He was my gay thing.” The other hunters rolled their eyes. “It was really good, you really got me there. Very smooth.” Dean rambled, realizing he’d said the term ‘gay thing’ possibly too many times now.  
“Yeah, well, smooth is about all I’ve got,” Erin complained. Turning around to look at his patrolling Gollum. The Gollum looked at him irritatedly. “What?” Erin groaned. The Gollum grunted back but continued to walk away and inspect the rest of the house. “Yeah that’s right, keep walking! You chia pet!”  
“So that’s a Gollum?” Y/N asked. She’d heard stories of the Gollum. But as far as she was concerned it was all myth and fiction.  
“Yes,” Erin sighed, taking off his coat. “Formed from clay and brought to life by Rabbis to protect the Jewish people in times of… I dunno, general crappiness.”  
“And he’s yours?” Sam asked still not quite believing the site in front of him.  
“Hardly. My grandfather left him to me. I’m the last surviving descendent of this initiative.”  
“The Jewda Initiative.” Sam continued.  
“Right,” Erin agreed. “And he…”  
“No!” The deep grumble of the Gollum appeared from behind the hunters. “Who are they to know about the men of Jewda?”  
“It’s okay,” Dean said rather condescendingly. “We, are the good guys!”  
“We’re hunters.” Sam took over before the Gollum got angry. “Sam and Dean Winchester. We know about the Jewda Initiative because our Grandfather was a Man of Letters.”  
“Yes, the rabbis knew the men of letters.” The Gollum approved before looking down at Y/N. “But you,” he said accusingly. “You are different.” Y/N stood back, slightly fearful at the gaze staring her down.  
“Friend not foe.” She stuttered, mentally slapping herself once the words left her mouth.  
“You have power.” The Gollum sensed.  
“She’s a trusted hunter from the Man of Letters.” Sam interrupted. The Gollum looked her up and down before grunting and continuing his circuit. Y/N sighed with relief and thanked Sam with a tired smile.

Erin allowed them to sit, handing them each a drink which Y/N and Dean gulped from quickly to steel their nerves.  
“So your grandfather was in all of this Supernatural stuff as well?” Erin asked, sitting opposite them.  
“yeah, grandparents, mom, dad, a truckload of cousins. The whole family’s lousy for it. But we never had a Gollum.” Dean laughed nervously.  
“We grew up in it,” Sam said, pointing between himself and Dean. “But you didn’t?”  
“My grandfather’s adventures, the initiative, the Gollum, the war, they were the stories he told me as a kid. I thought it was make-belief. So did my parents, fantasies to help him cope with all the stuff he’d witnessed in the war. But every once and a while crazy Grandfather Bass would come back from one of his trips, hand me a twenty-dollar savings bond and say ‘one day you’ll inherit the mantel.’ Sure enough a few days after he died, a big box showed up at my apartment. He always said I’d know what to do, which was crap! Because when I opened that box and this naked potato faced lunatic wakes up and goes crazy!” He shouted the last of his words sarcastically towards the Gollum pacing by the window.  
“I did not go crazy.” The Gollum answered steadily.  
“You trashed my entertainment center!” Erin yelled back. “My water bed!”  
“This boy knows nothing.” The Gollum argued, turning back to face the group. “Observes non of the mitzvahs, labors on the sabbath dines on swine…”  
“Everybody loves bacon!”  
“He is no Rabbi.” The Gollum grunted out words that none of the hunters could then understand.  
“Oh don’t start with that stuff again.” The Gollum repeated his phrase. “Enough! Please! Quiet time!” The Gollum grunted again before walking away and stalking around the room with heavy footsteps.  
“What does that mean?” Y/N asked once the Gollum turned away from them.  
“It’s Hebrew for something like ‘take charge.’ But I have no idea what that means!” Erin wined. “Look I grew up in Short Hills, I cheated my way through Hebrew school, I never really listened to my grandfather whatever he was saying.”  
“So he just sends you this Gollum and expects you to know how to handle him?” Y/N asked, not quite sure that sounded like the man who would spend every day in a library for a week.  
“He didn’t get much chance to prepare me I guess. My parents kept me away from all his crazy. See after the war, my grandfather spent the rest of his life trying to track down something called the Thule society.”  
“Right Nazi necromancers.” Y/N nodded, remembering a page of them during her early research days of magic and the dangers that came with the responsibility. “Witches, sorceress mostly dark magic to bring people back from the dead,” Y/N explained when Erin looked at her strangely.  
“All I know about the Thule is that they were this twisted fraternity hell-bent on world domination that sponsored the early days of the Nazi party. My grandfather said the Jewda Initiative was started to fight them.”  
“The Thule murdered you grandfather boy! Find them so I can finish my work!” The Gollum yelled, smashing his fist onto a nearby table, shattering the wood the small splinters. The hunters leaped out of their skin at the crash and bangs around them. Erin just groaned and turned to lecture his Gollum.  
“Hey! We’re renting here! RENTING!” The Gollum grunted again and carried on walking. Erin sighed and rubbed his aching head with his hands. “Look, I think my Gollum’s right. My Grandfather left me this message on his machine on the day he died. And he said that he had found something that the Thule were prepared to kill him for. Said he was hiding it here in plain sight. He left me this weed equation.” Erin reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper with written scribbles on it. “It’s not phone number or co-ordinates. QL6 73W38?” He handed it over to Dean who looked at it intently.  
“What is that a locker combination?” He guessed passing it to Sam. Sam looked at it and felt a surge through his body.  
“It’s a call number! Library congress, their filing system. They use it in college libraries. QL673… that’s sciences…”  
“Bird watching?” Y/N guessed. Sam darted his head and saw the excited look on Y/N’s face. He laughed as they realized what the book from earlier must mean.  
“He must have switched the books. Let’s go!”

* * *

Sam took lead on picking the locks to the library. They all followed him as they walked into the main reception area.  
“Do you guys break into everywhere you go?” Erin asked, looking down at the unlocked door.  
“Well, our dad wanted us to have a trade, in case hunting didn’t work out.” Dean joked  
“If I’m right, I think your grandfather switched manuscripts after 113 of the archives. I’ll be back.” Sam leaped up the stairs, no one feeling the need to follow, knowing he knew his way around a library better than anyone. The remaining hunters sat down on the steps and waited. The Gollum and Erin stood, waiting anxiously. Y/N could feel the Gollum’s stare on her, shifting in her seat she looked up and met his gaze uncomfortably.  
“You are not just a hunter.” He stated. Erin looked between all those in the room and found himself curious.  
“Yeah hold on a minute.” He muttered. “They told me how they got into the life, what about you? Why does my Gollum think you’re… powerful?” Y/N looked awkwardly over towards Dean who shrugged, not knowing how to lie his way out of this one. Y/N sighed and straightened her back.  
“Well… long story short. My family died thanks to a vengeful ghost, I was saved by a hunter who trained me up. I met these two idiots, a few hunts and a weird year later I made a deal with a mysterious witch to give me… powers I guess you could call it, and I use said powers to fight evil.” She smiled sarcastically “with great power comes great responsibility and whatnot.”

“So you can actually perform magic? Spells?” Erin asked excitedly.  
“yeah but she won’t,” Dean growled protectively.  
“What? Why not?”  
“I promised I wouldn’t. It’s a long story.” Erin continued to stare, waiting for the beginning of this tale.

They never got to explain further Y/N’s situation when Sam stumbled to the top of the stairs. He thudded against the banister heavily and loudly, thudding down the steps with little control of his body. “Sam?” Dean and Y/N stood up and immediately could see something was wrong with Sam. He held his neck with one hand, whilst the other held a large book.  
“Necromancer!” He uttered with pain.  
“Stay here.” Dean leaped into action going to his brother's side as he fell to the floor. Y/N followed and kneeled down beside him. Over his neck was a purple bruise, growing bigger and spreading over his body by the second. Y/N was convinced she could hear the sizzling of Sam’s blood. They heard the ping of a needle being shot through the air and land in Erin’s chest. Another shot and another victim. Erin dropped to the floor and pain. “Crap!” Dean yelled. “Hey, big guy!” He pointed to the Gollum. “They’re both going to die unless will kill the dick that did that spell!” The Gollum raced up the stairs and out of view.

“Come on.” Dean ushered his brother who was now losing any healthy natural color on his face. Y/N panicked, tears filling in her eyes.  
“Dean get out the way.” She told him, shoving him harshly. They all felt the warm golden glow that built up in her hands.  
“Y/N no!” Dean argued.

“Shut up!” She growled, turning Sam onto his back so she could look closer at his pained skin.  
“You know what will happen if you do this.” Dean instead.  
“Then go kill the sodding Necromancer before I have no choice!” She barked heatedly.  
“You’ll die.” Sam managed to groan, turning her face back to him. She put her hands against his cheeks and smiled down at him tearfully.  
“Better me than you.” She whispered.  
“No,” he grunted, trying to push her away, but he was too weak.

They hard banding and a struggle up above them before the Gollum returned dragging the limp body of a man in a black suit with him. He dumped him on the ground whilst Y/N carried on crying and hold Sam’s head in her hands.  
“Y/N wait,” Dean ordered before she could go through with the spell. She looked up and saw the limp body on the floor. His head lifted from the ground, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.  
“Long live the Thule.” He smirked evilly. The Gollum picked the man up by the head and snapped his neck loudly. Sam and Erin suddenly gasped loudly. Sam darted forward, grabbing Y/N’s body for balance and in desperation for something concrete. She grabbed him in her arms, wrapping them around his body and squeezing him firmly.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s gone. You’re fine. We’re all fine.”

* * *

Y/N and Dean burnt the body, instructing Erin and Sam harshly to rest up back in the house. Afterward, they went back to join them and come up with some sort of group plan. Not used to the long hours of the hunting life Erin called it a night and went to sleep, guarded by him Gollum. Y/N made Sam get comfortable on the sofa and get at least a few hours sleep after the ordeal he’d gone through. When daylight arrived, Dean went to grab the group coffee whilst Y/N and Sam started on their research. She slowly looked through the book everyone was so desperate to get their hands on whilst Sam looked the internet for anything that could clue them into what it in fact was.

Dean opened the door with four large coffees, passing one to Y/N who grabbed it quickly.  
“What you find out?” He asked  
“We think it's a logbook from a Nazi compound in Bnellarouse,” Sam informed him, taking his own coffee. “It was run by the Thule.”  
“This is the Red Ledger,” Erin told them as Dean took a seat. “It was lost in the fire that destroyed the compound. But my grandfather was convinced it had been found after the war.”  
“It describes the horrible experiments done on the camp population,” Y/N said sombrely. “Magical experiments.” She added regretfully.

“More horrible than words.” The Gollum’s voice came from the side of the room, grabbing everyone’s attention. He looked off into the distance, lost in memories of trauma and abuse. “You were there, weren’t you?” Y/N asked sympathetically.

“I was made to tare that place down. I broke its walls. It’s men.” When the Gollum turned back to the group there was an icy shiver down everyone’s spine.  
“What does it mean when you tell Erin to take charge?” Sam asked finally.

“The boy would know if he could consult the pages.” Everyone turned to look at Erin who was looking down at his hands embarrassingly.  
“the pages?” Dean asked.  
“When I was bar mitzvahed my grandfather gave me this little old book. It was In Hebrew. Like an owner's manual for a Gollum.”  
“Great! Get that then.” Dean grunted.  
“I can’t exactly. When I went to high school I sort of drifted. Started getting off the academic path and err … kind of… I kind of smoked it.”  
“The boy smoked the pages.” The Gollum repeated heavily with disappointment.  
“They were these thin pages! Perfect for rolling! They were driving instructions for a clay man! It was nonsense! Okay alright, I’m sorry okay! Why can’t you just tell me what I don’t know!” Erin’s ramblings slowly built the anger in the Gollum who exploded by placing his fists down on the table and towering over them all.  
“It is not my place! To teach the teacher? It’s not my place.” He shouted before turning his back to the group and sulking away.  
“That’s not super comforting, gotta say.” Dean smiled nervously once he was sure the Gollum was out of earshot. Erin looked around the room awkwardly, a heavy burden sitting on his chest with no idea how to guide himself through it. Y/N offered in a small smile whilst Sam brought them back to the pain topic of conversation.

“So, as far as I can tell, these experiments, the Thule were burning Jews, Gypsies, basically anybody, then trying to magical re-animate them. They were trying o find a way to bring their own dead back to life. Which I’m guessing they figured out because this…” Sam reached over his laptop to pick and turn around the Red Ledger. “This last page is a costa of every dead Thule member who was reanimated.”  
“They actually figured it out,” Y/N questioned in shock. Her magic was untamed and pure chaos, and even she hadn’t figured out how to bring back the dead.  
“This is why they killed my grandfather?” Erin asked with mournful eyes, the true realization of what he had lost finally crashing down on him.  
“Anything in there on how to kill it?” Dean wondered to his brother.  
“It says they experimented with that too. Headshot. But if you don’t burn the body within twelve hours it re-animates again.” Y/N sighed, slumping in her chair heavily.  
“Nazi bastards,” Dean muttered before taking a large sip of coffee.

.

.

The hunters now sat in the kitchen alone. Dean was pacing up and down the room with nervous energy, desperate to get his hands on the ultimate bad guy and slay it dead. He phoned up Garth as he retreated a bag full of tools and weapons they could eventually use to their advantage. Y/N and Sam sat opposite one another at the kitchen table, each researching their own topics.  
“No Garth! Not a tool society. Thule! T-H-U-L-E… yeah call me if you find anything.”  
“No luck?” Y/n asked as Dean hung up the phone and turned back around to face them.  
“No one even heard of the Thule society.” He grunted. “Whoever these people are, they’ve been flying under the hunter radar. What about you two? Any idea how to take control of big clay man out there?”  
“Nothing solid.” Sam sighed regretfully. “The lore is pretty all over the place. According to one legend, it can be shut down if you erase one of the letters on its forehead.”

“I didn’t see any letters on clay face.”  
“Another legend says there’s a scroll in their mouth you’re supposed to rip out.” Y/N read from her laptop.  
“Won't that give him sort of lisp?” Dean asked unhelpfully.  
“Classically they’re not even supposed to speak.” Sam huffed tiredly. “But what we do know is that he took on an entire camp of heavily armed soldiers and Thule Necromancers and won!”  
“One badass humble figurine.”  
“That we have no idea how to put back in the box.”

“So that’s your plan? Take out my Gollum?” Erin entered the room, hearing the last few words of the hunter’s conversation.  
“It’s not a plan.” Sam tried to reassure him.  
“We’d just feel a lot better if we knew how to,” Dean added, undermining the entire tone Sam was trying to convey.  
“But it’s not something we want to do,” Y/N added, pulling an angry face at Dean who looked back with a shrug.  
“What makes you think you have any right to make that decision?” Erin challenged. Dean looked at the man taken aback by his sudden bravery. He stepped forward.  
“Believe me, if we need the right we will take it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, looking to Sam to control his older brother.  
“He may be a pain in the ass. But he’s my responsibility.”  
“The Gollum was built to go to war. You’re not trained for that. How are you going to take that on?” Sam asked calmly, trying to get Erin to understand where they were coming from.  
“I don’t know.” He muttered quietly.

The group didn’t get the chance to continue their discussion when the door burst open, flying off its hinges with an ugly bang. Dean pushed Erin behind him protectively as Sam grabbed the ledger and hid it in a bag under a desk. Y/N rushed to her feet, running towards the bag of weapons Dean had brought in earlier. Before she could pick up a gun, the group of men had entered the room and one swung its hand across her face, sending her to the hardwood floor. Dean tried to take the gun Y/N had failed to obtain but he too was met with a fist to the face. Sam stood back with his hands in the air as a gun was pointed in his face. Erin was lifted up by his shirt collar by another angry-looking member of the Thule. The Gollum appeared from another room having heard the commotion. He grunted loudly as he strode across the room, picking up the Thule member who held Erin captive. He wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, ready to snap it, just as he had done the night before.  
“Enough!” The commanding voice reregistered quickly in the Gollum. He put the man back down on the floor and turned to see a man he recognized from years pasted. “What a grim piece of work. After all these years…”  
“Edgar.” The Gollum spat angrily. He stepped forward, slowly approaching the man with murder in his eyes. Edgar spoke in Hebrew,  
“Clay of Adam, surrender your bond unto me.” Powerless against the words, the Gollum stood still, as if restored to his factory settings. The man walked past him calmly and everyone looked in shocked confusion as the Gollum simply let him pass.

Sam was pushed to the floor beside where Y/N had landed. The two both looked at each other, mentally trying to come up with some sort of plan. “I command you buy the covenant of your makers, Clay of Adam, surrender you bond unto me.” The man spoke with authority as he returned to stand in front of the Gollum. He let his hand sit open in front of the Gollum’s mouth as it opened and a scroll dropped from his lips and into the Thule’s hands. Y/N sighed with frustration, the legend she had read was only slightly off from accurate. Erin stood in shock as another member pushed him forwards towards the Thule’s leader. “So you are the Gollum’s Rabbi?” He asked, turning to Erin. He laughed. “You woke him, but you didn’t take possession of him. You write your name on the scroll boy. That’s how you take charge.”  
“I didn’t know what he meant,” Erin said regretfully.

With one ear in the conversation, the other focusing on forging up a plan, Dean tried to calculate how close he was to a misplaced gun. Could he get to it before the Thule soldiers had a chance to shoot him? He didn’t get the chance to think long as Edgar swung his hand and smacked Erin to the floor. He then nodded to one of his army members who began scanning around the room.  
“So which of you is going to tell me where I can find a certain red ledger.” His German accents as thick as he sat down slowly on a chair, smirking at the position of power he found himself in.  
“How about you screw yourself you Nazi bastard.” Sam shot back.  
“Can we put the Nazi thing aside for one moment and talk about this like…”  
“Nazi necromancer dicks?” Dean suggested. “pass.”  
“So I take it you're the one who authorized all those experiments,” Sam spoke to the man with disdain.  
“Invented those experiments, thank you,” he smirked his reply. Sam rolled his eyes and laughed at his arrogance. When he turned his head he saw Y/N looking at him, eyes communicating the worry in her chest. She flexed her hand subtly, hoping Sam would get the message. He shook his head and warned her with his eyes. Y/N’s eyes argued back, thinking they wouldn’t have much of a choice soon. Dean across the room was trying to signal to Erin to reach for a nearly forgotten gun, but he shook his head in fear.  
“So what about you? You’re not undead?” Sam asked, hoping to distract the man long enough for Erin to build up his courage so Y/N wouldn’t have to take charge. “What did you do? Cast a forever 21 spell on yourself? And your little friend in the library?”  
“His name was Torvite,” Edgar told him. “And you will suffer for that.” From behind Sam and Y/N, one of the Thule had managed to find the hiding spot of the ledger. They really were running out of time.  
“I gotta say, spell or no spell. Your body went down easy.” Dean teased as Edgar took hold of the red book. He flipped through the pages and smiled proudly.  
“Let me tell you what I see. A magic Jew at my feet, not a master insight. And finally, our secret, secret once again.” He stood up proudly, assuming his victory.  
“There’s something else you haven’t seen,” Y/N spoke up from her spot on the floor.  
“Is that so?” Edgar chuckled, signaling to his men to pick her up from the floor and bring her to him. Sam tried to struggle and fight back but was met with a gun to the face. Y/N gritted her teeth as she stood toe to toe with the leader of the group holding her and her friends hostage. Edgar lifted his ungloved hand to stroke along her jaw and smiled. “And what would that be?”  
Y/N flinched her head away before smirking with her eyes at the man she knew had no power over what she was about to do.  
“You see a magic Jew, his master, two hunters, and one pissed off witch.” Edgar looked down between him and Y/N as he felt a warm glow from her hands. He saw the gold and realized the trap he had walked himself into. Before he had a chance to shout a canter spell, Y/N screamed. “INPELLO!” Her hands thrust forward and Edgar went flying across the room. Y/N felt the blow to her own stomach as she collapsed to the ground. When the Thule went to the aid of their master, both Sam and Dean shot bullets through their heads, stopping them before they had any chance at retaliation. They came to their feet, keeping a side-eye for Y/N who was lying still on the ground. They pointed their guns down at pained and suffering Edgar who looked up at them.  
“Fools!” He screamed. “You can kill me, but you will never kill all of the Thule.” Sam and Dean didn’t leave less than a second before shooting loudly and two bullets killing the man dead. He fell to the ground with a loud thud just as Y/N’s eyes began to open. She saw the dead Thule and lack of guards.  
“Did we win?” She asked with a smirk.

* * *

The Gollum hadn’t moved from his spot when they returned from burying the bodies of the now-dead Thule members. Neither man had lectured or questioned Y/N for her use of magic, knowing that truthfully Y/N’s magic was what got them out of a rather sticky situation. But that didn’t mean they liked the sight of Y/N wincing as she bent forward with most likely a cracked rib.  
“Well, now we know.” Dean sighed as they walked back into the house and flicked o the switch. “Paper beats Gollum. Fire beats undead Nazi zombie freaks.”  
“What do you say, Erin?” Sam asked, looking between the man and his now tamed Gollum.  
“We have a place we can keep him safe,” Y/N added, thinking of the bunker. He would only sit in the bunker still as another artifact, but it could be the safest thing for everyone if Erin wasn’t prepared to take on the responsibility of being his master.  
“No, I mean. Edgar might be dead but you heard him. The Thule is still out there. Active.” He took the scroll out of his pocket and rolled it open, looking at the written names in Hebrew of the Gollum’s masters before him. He looked at the blue ink and smiled sadly. “Mr grandfather. He left me something important.” He reached out a pen and began writing his name on the scroll, underneath the man he had just lost. “Something only I can do.” He rolled the scroll back up, placing it in the Gollums mouth, and watched as he appeared back into life. He turned to Erin and looked down at him. “Looks like I’m the Jewda Initiative now.” In Hebrew the Gollum spoke, repeating the phrase that told Erin to take charge, only this time it was a light whisper. “I thought I did.” Erin stetted in worry.  
“Yes.” The Gollum smiled. Bowing his head to his master.

* * *

They were back at the bunker, music filling the library as Sam pottered around with pen and paper.  
“What you doing?” Dean called, reaching for two glasses and scotch.  
“Ordering, making a log entry of copies from the Red Ledger for our collection,” Sam told his brother, sitting down and beginning his writing.  
“So what? Erin’s a J.I and you’re a man of letters now? Is that it?” He asked pouring scotch into the glass tumbler and handing it to his brother. “Good.” He smiled taking the seat opposite him and lifted his legs up to rest on the table. Sam looked down at the liquid, not able to fully smile.  
“Dean, we gotta talk about…”  
“I know.” Dean sighed. “Y/N.”  
“She’s not gonna stop using her magic, not if she thinks she needs to.”  
“If it wasn’t for her we would have been another statistic for the Thule,” Dean grunted.  
“I know, but…”  
“How long until something bad happens?” Dean finished his sentence, looking back at his worried brother.  
“What do we do?” Sam asked.

“You do nothing.” Y/N stepped into the room, taking the boys from surprise. “You’re right.” She said as she walked towards the table and pulled out the chair. “I’m not going to stop. If there’s no way out, if someone needs saving, I’m going to do what I can.”  
“And the cost?” Dean challenged.  
“Is mine to pay.”  
“But it’s not,” Sam said darkly, darker than anyone expected. “If you die, we pay the cost of losing you.” Y/N felt the guilt begin to bubble in her stomach when she met Sam’s eyes.  
“I can’t not just use them. They’re apart of me now.” She tried to insist calmly. “I know I don’t know all the consequences yet. But, I can’t just fight beside you with one hand tied behind my back.” They all fell into silence, looking down at their hands. Eventually, Dean stood up. He went back to the scotch and poured Y/N her own tumbler to drink. He moved to stand above her, looking down and handing her the glass.  
“Just don’t get dead.” He told her. Y/N looked at him and Sam. Sam’s shoulders limped and he nodded in agreement with his brother. She nodded along with them and took the drink.  
“Just don’t get dead.” She repeated in understanding.


	13. Trial and Error.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin has finally discovered how to shut the gates of hell. A series of three trials one of the hunters need to take. The first one, kill and bathe in the blood of a hell hound. Easy right?

Walking down the cold but comforting halls of the Bunker, Y/N stopped in her path when she caught movement from inside Dean’s room. She hid slightly behind the doorway, peeking her head around to see what was going on. Dean was taking Vinyl CD’s out of his bag, handling each one with care before balancing them upright on his wooden draws. Alongside was his Vinyl player, sitting proudly and awaiting its next song to play. Dean took out a classic Led Zeppelin and placed it on top of the player as if a trophy to display to the world. He had been hanging and balancing guns to the walls and was leaving little parts of himself all over the room. When he reached for his wallet and pulled out a small old photo, Y/N’s heart warmed and hurt all at once.  
“Hey, mom.” He said to the picture, smiling to himself before setting it down on the cabinet.

As Y/N watched the private moment of Dean Winchester’s life, Sam was walking down towards the library and spotted her hovering. He didn’t speak, just stood beside her, gently brushing his fingers along her back to alert her of his presence. She jumped lightly but calmed the second she saw and smelt his presence. She lifted a finger to her lips before pointing into the room. Sam laughed, looking at his brother and announcing his audience audibly.  
“Wow.” He chuckled. Dean looked up and saw Sam and Y/N smiling at him from the doorway. “Not bad,” Sam commented, looking around the room.  
“Not bad?” Dean laughed. “I haven’t had my own room ever!” Y/N’s mind flashed briefly through her quick-lived childhood, thinking of her family and her eagerness to stay as close to them as possible, until the day when they told her she was too big to be sleeping in her parent’s room. She and her sister decorated their large antique room together but barely got to spend a night’s sleep in it before the accident. From that night on she had gotten used to sleeping with a lonely sensation in her heart. Bobby had given her her own room, and when she moved out on her own there was no one around to share with. Then the boys entered her life and it was a string of shared motel rooms. She’d expected it to be annoying, to crave her own space once again, but the safety in numbers it brought was comforting. Now they all had their own rooms again, Y/N craved for the next hunt that would take them away from the bunker, just to give them a reason to share a room through the dark nights. She mentally scowled herself for not thinking of the boys. They’d spent their lives living on top of one another, it made sense that Dean was gleeful to finally have his own space. “I am making this awesome!” He announced to them. “I’ve got my kick-ass Vinyl! I’ve got this killer mattress.” He jumped down to sit on the bed, stroking the sheets beneath him. “Memory foam! It remembers me.” Y/N giggled at Dean’s excitement for the basic furnishings of a bedroom that wasn’t a crappy motel.

Sam shrugged, not partially excited by the concept of a room for one, having had his own room for a few years after running away from home. He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of gum wrapped in paper. Rolling it in his hands before popping the gum in his mouth. “And it’s clean too! No funky smell or creepy motel stains!” Sam half-listened to his brother, chucking the gum paper towards the bin. It missed and Dean’s face fell. “Really?” He groaned annoyed. Y/N hit Sam’s chest with the back of her hand, sharing Dean’s annoyed face.  
“Sorry.” He said, not completely meaning it, but walking further into the room to pick up his rubbish and put it in the desired place.  
“I’m gonna go fix us some grub.” Dean groaned. Y/N smiled sympathetically at him as he walked out of the room and left Y/N and Sam to stand alone.

She turned back and saw Sam looking down at the photo that was placed underneath the lamp. He smiled at it sadly, but couldn’t draw his eyes away from it. Y/N came to his side and rubbed her hand comforting up and down his arm briefly.  
“She’s beautiful,” Y/N whispered, taking in Mary’s bright smile and blonde locks.  
“Yeah…” Sam said plainly. He looked down, feeling the hand resting on his wrist, and mentally pulled himself back into the present. “So what about you?” He asked cheerfully, unexpectedly to Y/N. She pulled her eyes away from the old photo and up at the man smiling down at her.  
“What about me?” She asked confused.  
“You must be enjoying having your own space again. Decorating with… whatever you decorate your space with?” Sam shrugged cheekily. Y/N laughed, letting go of her hold on Sam and slowly walking out the room, Sam following behind her.  
“Everything I need can fit into my bag. I don’t really have much stuff to decorate with.” She explained to him as they walked down the halls. “No point being sentimental about spaces when you might need to up and leave the next day, y’know?” Sam and Y/N both shared a sad but accepted smile of the life of a hunter, or simply a drifter with no permanent home.  
“Yeah, I know.”

.

.

They’d settled themselves opposite one another at the large tables in the library. It was about time they properly began to explore what this bunker had to offer, so slowly but surely they made their way through it. Sam sat across from Y/N reading his books, as she read hers. When they were sure the other wasn’t looking, they would lift their eyes from the pages to sneak a glance. Sam always felt a sense of guilt for stealing a look into these private moments of Y/N’s life, but couldn’t stop reveling in the sight of her relaxed spine and non-creased brow. The light around her seemed to glow so much warmer when her head wasn’t spinning and studying her surroundings for the next threat. Y/N on the other hand felt no guilt in her sneaky looks up Sam as he worked. She knew he was far too engrossed in his reading material to even notice if she pulled out a box of popcorn and settled in to just watch him. He was the fastest reader she’d ever encountered, but she knew he took in every word fully. His lips moved slightly as he read the words before him, his large broad hands cupping the book, and his brow furrowed in concentration. It was the oddest combination of endearing and sultry. Y/N shook her head and mentally smacked herself as the thought crossed her mind. The days of thinking of Sam Winchester like that were those of the past.  
“What you reading?” To her relief, Dean barged into the room with three plates of food and took broad steps towards them.  
“Sort of… everything,” Sam told him, looking up casually as he placed a burger down before both Sam and Y/N.  
“Good, somebody got to dig through this and it Ain’t going to be me,” Dean replied cheekily before sitting himself down. Y/N and Sam shared an exasperated look before Y/N began to study the burger in front of her suspiciously.  
“Did err… you make these?” She questioned.  
“We have a real kitchen now!” Dean said with a smile.  
“Yeah I know, I’m the one who's been using it. I just didn’t realize you knew how to work a kitchen.” She replied sassily, lifting the bread bun to inspect the contents further.  
“I’m nesting! Eat!” Dean instructed strictly. Y/N waited, watching as Sam took a bite of his burger fist. Dean also watched expectedly with a smile.  
“Wow!” Sam exclaimed.  
“What? Really?” Y/N asked in slight shock, diving to take a bite of her own. “Holy…” she groaned happily as her tastebuds began to tingle.  
“You’re welcome,” Dean replied smugly.

Y/N and Sam both returned their meal, eyes happy and hungry. Before Dean could take a bite of his own, his phone began to ring in his pocket.  
“Yo Kevin!” They heard him answer. “Wait… what? Kevin? Kevin!”  
“Something wrong?” Sam inspected, feeling the hunter's sense of a case starting to form.  
“Guess.” Dean groaned, standing from his seat and walking away, getting ready for their journey. Sam and Y/N both looked at one another before down to their burgers.  
“You grab my bag, I’ll put them in some Tupperware?” Y/N suggested, reading his thoughts through her matching eyes.  
“Deal!”

* * *

The houseboat met them in its usually grimy and salty reception. With their guns held up before them, Dean took the lead and opened the door to the room they expected to find Kevin.  
“Kevin? It’s us!” Sam called out deeply as they slowly stalked into the room. There was no sign of Kevin himself, but plenty of evidence he had been there recently. Papers and pens scattered across the room, the smell of old fried food and sweat sat heavily in the air. But still no Kevin. The sound of banging from the back of the boat alerted the hunters as they made quick but silent steps towards the door. Dean swung open the door and grimaced.  
“Found him.” He announced. Sam and Y/N swiftly moved to his side to witness Kevin bent over a toilet bowl, throwing up violently.  
“Oh, Kevin.” Y/N cooed, pushing past the useless lumps she called her partners in crime. They just stood and stared as Kevin hurled. She put her hands on his shoulder, the other rubbing circles across his back, attempting to soothe him as his stomach convulsed. With a sympathetic wince, Y/N finally looked up at the dumbfounded stares of Sam and Dean. “Get the boy some water.” She told them impatiently. Sam moved quickly, eager to be far away from the scene, leaving Dean with an awkward expression as he laughed nervously at what was in front of him.

.

.

Moments later Kevin was finally able to pull himself away from the toilet, stuffing a piece of toilet paper in his nose before he followed the worried hunters into the main room. Y/N observed with concern as he removed the tissue now stained with bright red blood.  
“Wow, you look like hammered crap,” Dean added unhelpfully, standing and looking down at the boy.  
“Yeah,” Kevin agreed.  
“Are you sleeping?” Sam asked, crossing his arms and looking down at Kevin, gently interrogating the boy.  
“Not really,” Kevin replied casually.  
“Eating?” Y/N tried.  
“Hot dogs mostly.” Well, that explained the smell.  
“Sure, breakfast of champions,” Dean replied sarcastically. “Look, I’m gonna feel dirty even saying this; but you might want a salad.”  
“And a shower,” Y/N added.  
“I know. And I’ve been getting bad headaches and nosebleeds and I think I had a minor stroke…” Kevin ignored the befuddled faces of the hunters before him, shocked at his casual nature for his body not so slowly shutting down. “But it was worth it!”  
“What was worth it?” Kevin stood up, now leveling himself with the hunters before him. His face was painted with pride and relief as his lips curved upwards.  
“I figured out how to close the gates of hell.”

The room went heavy with silence as the hunters took in each word, repeating it in their heads about ten times to make sure they heard right.  
“You…” Dean stuttered, not quite believing what he was hearing. He looked at the large smiles from both Y/N and Sam, reassured his hearing was fine. He turned back to Kevin. “Come here, you smelly bastard!” He ran over to Kevin engulfing him in his broad arms and squeezing heavily. Y/N and Sam both laughed gleefully, especially when the stench of Kevin wafted over Dean and he quickly put the boy down and stepped away.  
“Okay, okay!” Sam laughed, bringing the mood back to a level headed atmosphere. “So what does this mean? What are we looking at?”  
“It’s a spell,” Kevin told them, moving to his large curated corkboard. Y/N’s eyes lit up and she practically bounced.  
“Awesome! My area of expertise.” She sang proudly, ignoring the quick look of warning from both Sam and Dean.  
“It’s just a few words of Enokian,” Kevin informed them, passing a piece of paper over to Dean to investigate. “The words have to be spoken after you finish each of the three trials.”  
“Trials?” Sam asked. “Like law and order?” Y/N bit her instinct to laugh and playfully hit Sam for his suggestion, before remembering anything was possible in their world.  
“More like Hercules,” Kevin explained as Dean passed the page over to Sam. “The tablet says whoever chooses to take on these tasks should not fear danger, nor death nor…. A word I think means getting your spleen ripped out through your mouth for all eternity.” Sam and Y/N winced as Dean shrugged.  
“Good times.”  
“Basically God created these tests, and once you’ve done all three, you can slam the gates.”  
“So what? God wants us to take the S.A.T.s” Sam said.  
“I guess, he works in mysterious ways.” Kevin shrugged.  
“Mysterious douchebag ways.” Dean and Y/N both answered at the same time, smiling at one another when they realized their synchronization.  
“Where do we start?” Sam shook his head at the two smaller hunters.  
“I’ve only been able to crack one of the tests so far. And it’s gross. You’ve got to kill a hound of hell and bathe in its blood.”  
“Awesome.” Dean cheered quietly.  
“In what way is that awesome?” Y/N grumbled with a disgusted face.  
“If this means dicing all demons, I have no problem slicing some devil dog.”  
“Where are you gonna find one?” Kevin wondered.  
“They usually turn up to collect souls from crossroad deals. We just need to find someone who made a deal ten years ago and get to the dog before it kills and drags.” Y/N guessed.  
“easy.” Dean echoed in agreement.  
“It doesn’t sound easy.” Kevin pointed out pessimistically.  
“It’s not,” Sam added in the same tone. Dean clapped his hands as a plan formed in his head and he was ready to announce it.  
“You two get on the web and see what you can dig up. I’m gonna go on a supply run because we need Gofer dust and the kid needs to eat something that isn’t ground up hooves and pig anuses. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” He winked before turning on his heels and leaving the boat.

Y/N and Sam both scoffed with amusement before Y/N turned to send her attention back to Kevin.  
“Right,” she said, with so much authority Kevin thought for a moment his mother was in the room. It was unnerving. “I can not stay in this tin can for a second longer unless you have a shower and sort yourself out. Because this…” she waved a finger up and down Kevin’s unshaved face and unkempt appearance. “Is not cute.” Kevin nodded obediently before scurrying back to the bathroom. Sam laughed gently before Y/N turned to put her attention on him. “You and me, have research to do!”

.

.

Half an hour later Y/N and Sam were both sitting around Kevin’s small table, after gently pushing his notes to the side of the room. The two sat in their usual comfortable silence wedged between stolen glances and hidden smiles. They both searched the web for any sign of deals made ten years ago. Y/N had expected it to be more difficult, but Sam was quick to turn his laptop around to show his screen.  
“This is why you’re the research guy.” She laughed proudly. Sam laughed along with a questionable brow.  
“If I’m the research guy, what’s Dean?”  
“The tough guy.” She said as if it was obvious.  
“I’m tough,” Sam argued with a slight pout.  
“Yeah but Dean’s… tough, tough! You’re tough and nerdy.”  
“Tough and nerdy?” He grinned amusingly.  
“Yeah! It’s a good thing!” Y/N tried to convince him whilst cracking up at his face.  
“Okay fine. What are you then?”  
“I’m the tough, magical, beautiful, funny, and alluring one.” She mocked proudly. Sam chuckled and looked back down at his laptop. “What? No disagreements?” She challenged, expecting him to throw some sort of banter at her, shooting that she was the delusional one.  
“No, no disagreements.” He looked up meeting her eyes playfully. Y/N was taken back with a shocked smile.

“Okay! I feel a lot better.” Kevin interrupted them by stepping down the steps into the room they sat in. He’d put on clean clothes, washed his hair, and even shaved his stubble from his face. He still sounded bunged up and ill but looked much brighter as he walked over and picked up a cup of coffee. Y/N looked at the boy before gently kicking Sam’s leg under the table. He looked at her questionably until she motioned her head over to Kevin.  
“Oh right,” he said under his breath. “Hey, Kevin. Buddy, you gotta slow down.”  
“What?”  
“Get some shut-eye, take a day off, open a window!”  
“no.” Kevin shook his head strongly. “You said nuking hell! That’s how I get out! That’s how I get home!”  
“It is, but Kevin, you can’t live like this,” Y/N interjected.  
“You think I want to? I hate it here! I can’t leave because every Demon on the planet wants to peel my face off!” He yelled desperately. “I can’t talk to anyone except you guys, or Garth when he swings by. Or my mum! And when she calls all she does is cry! I just need this to be over.” Y/N felt the pain from the boy before her. She reached out a hand to gently squeeze his wrist sympathetically.  
“I get it, I do,” Sam told him, trying not to smile and the kind gesture before him. “But this saving the world thing. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. You’ve gotta take better care of yourself.” Kevin took in the words, looking down at Y/N who nodded and smiled up at him. Sam’s words slowly sinking in, Kevin nodded in understanding.

They heard the squeak of the large metal door as Dean announced his return.  
“Hey, did you know, that there are like 6,000 different types of tomatoes?” Y/N laughed and stood up to take the plastic bag off of Dean.  
“It’s amazing what food you can find when you take your head out of the freezer section.” She quipped. Dean pulled a mockery face at her, repeating her words before being met with a whack of the shoulder.  
“Did you find anything?” He asked, moving back to the problem at hand.  
“Yeah, weather weird outs ten years ago in Idaho,” Sam told his brother.  
“Right well heavy weird means heavy freak. You find out who made a deal?” Sam turned the laptop around.  
“Meet the Cassidy’s. They struck oil on their land in February of ’03, which is weird because of geological surveys…”  
“Yeah, you had me at weird.” Dean interrupted. “We thinking deal?”  
“Best lead we’ve got,” Y/N replied.  
“Okay well, let's go check out the Beverly Hillbillies.” The team all stood up to collect their belongings and get moving onto their next case.

“You stay here.” Dean pointed at Kevin. “Work on finding out about step number two, and if you find anything about killing Hellhounds, drop a dime okay? Because between the claws and the teeth and the invisible thing those bitches and can be real… bitches.” Y/N scoffed over at Dean’s colorful language as she placed her laptop into her bag. “I got you a present.” He announced, turning to the plastic bag and pulling out two bottles of pills. “The blue ones are for the headaches and the green ones are for… pep?” He shrugged as Kevin took the bottles. “Don’t OD.” He said playfully, slapping Kevin’s arm before turning back to the other hunters waiting at the door.  
“You sure about that?” Sam asked in a whisper.  
“Yeah, I’m not about to heal a drug overdose. My body can’t handle that right now.” Y/N said, only half-joking.  
“Guys were are at the final yard line. It's time to play through the pain.” Dean walked off confidently leaving Y/N and Sam to look at each other worried before looking at Kevin sizing up the large pill bottles.

* * *

Cassidy Farm was the definition of wealth. The smooth tarmac roads sectioned off from the public roads with black towering gates. The grass was neatly trimmed and perfectly green considering the time of the year. There were houses and buildings and barns all bricked and clean from any natural decay. It was difficult to remember they were in fact on a farm and not a holiday park or gated community. The Impala purred as they came to a gentle stop.  
“Okay, keep an eye out,” Dean told them, turning in his seat to address Y/N as well as Sam as he spoke. “Anyone with a Hell Hound on their ass is going to be showing signs. Hallucinating, freaking out, the usual.”

“And if we find someone?” Sam asked.  
“You get them clear and I spike fido. The crowd goes wild.” Dean flashed his knife before ducking it back into his pocket. The boys were about to open and leave the car when Y/N stopped them with her voice.

“Can I just remind you guys of something?” The two brothers looked at each other unsure what they had missed. “I’ve never faced a Hell Hound before. Witches, Demons, ghosts… I’m your girl. But an invisible gigantic dog that drags you to hell…” the boys both felt a sense of guilt bubble in their stomachs. Y/N moved with such confidence and had so much knowledge on topics they had no clue on. It was easy to forget that even though she was an immaculate hunter, what was normal to them wasn’t so normal to other hunters. Other hunters rarely came in contact with the King of Hell himself. Rarely did a normal hunter worry about stopping the apocalypse or saving the world. Their focus was slowly ridding the world of monsters one at a time. But not every monster had been uncovered yet.  
“Just stay close. It’ll be okay.” Sam reassured her. Y/N failed to look convinced but nodded anyway.

Stepping out of the car they were met with a brisk icy wind of the early year’s winter on its way out. Dean noticed a large tractor with a pair of feet underneath. Someone lay under the tractor working on the mechanics underneath.  
“Hey, pal, who runs this joint?” Dean asked. The person rolled themselves out from underneath the tractor with ease.  
“You’re looking at her.” She announced. The young woman had clear tanned skin with dark hair that was pulled back behind her back. In her red flannel and work boots, she could easily be mistaken for a hunter in the right area. Dean stared with a mixture of emotions in his stomach. Embarrassment for assuming the person under the tractor was a male, and attraction for the beauty who stared back at him with dark eyes.  
“You own the ranch?” Sam asked.  
“Nope, just manage the property. You guys here about the job?” The lights went on behind the hunter’s eyes as they realized they had an angle they could work.  
“How’d you guess.” Y/N smiled humorously.  
“We get our share of drifters.” The woman answered politely. “Ever worked a farm before?”  
“Definitely!” Dean answered, too confidently to be convincing, and from the looks of it, the woman in front of them wasn’t convinced.  
“We’ve done our fair share of manual labor and we’re quick learners,” Y/N added to attempt to comfort the woman’s decision.

“Ellie? Who we got here?” A stockier man with a beard walked on over beside the woman they had been speaking to, apparently named Ellie. He had bright pink skin, most likely due to the cold, but had kind welcoming eyes.  
“I’m Dean, this is Sam and this is Y/N.” Dean introduced them, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.  
“Carl Groundfall, pleasure.” The man smiled as he shook each one of their hands.  
“Pleasure,” Sam returned. “So you’re not a Cassidy?”  
“My wife is. Her and her family own the place. I’m just one of those… whatcha call them…” he patted his round oversized belly with a smile. “Trophy husbands.” He chuckled heartily before turning back to Ellie. “So are we hiring these fellas? Oh and… lady.” He apologized with a smile that Y/N was happy to accept.  
“Not sure yet,” Ellie replied.  
“Oh come on, they seem like swell people.”  
“That’s us. We’re swell.” Dean winked cheekily as Carl nodded and headed on his way.

Ellie walked the group to one of the barn houses, showing them the grounds and explaining the ropes. She walked to a small red and brown door and opened it for them to look inside.

“You bed down in here. The room for women is next door. Breakfast is at 5, dinner is at 8. In-between those hours your mine. Questions?” Dean looked into the small room, noting the single beds and shelves stacked with farming equipment.  
“I miss my room.” He sulked quietly.  
“We’re good,” Sam spoke quickly before Dean deterred Ellie even further.  
“Okay, the job is yours if you want it. But I got to warn you, it’s crap work.”

.

.

Ten minutes later all hunters were wearing work gloves and shoveling horse shit out of the stalls and into wheelbarrows.  
“Crap work.” Dean groaned before pushing his fork into a fresh pile of dung. “She literally meant crap.” He grunted as he emptied his pile of crap into the wheelbarrow. He strode over to the horse he was cleaning up after and stared the chestnut-haired animal in the eye. “I hate you.” Sam and Y/N both laughed at the mild toddler tantrum as they worked on cleaning their own respective stalls.

“I don’t care! Do I look like a hippy?” The hunters all looked outside the stalls when they heard the high uptight complaining of a woman with short and curly red hair. She was dressed in well ironed and groomed riding gear, stomping herself into the cold and quickly followed by a frazzled Ellie.  
“Organic food is better for the cattle.” She argued.  
“My land, my animals, my money, my way! End of story.” The woman silenced Ellie with a signal of her hand before turning and stomping off in the opposite direction. Ellie sighed in defeat and turned to walk back towards her new employees.  
“Well, she’s a real piece of work huh?” Dean scoffed.  
“Alice Cassidy is a real something alright,” Ellie said in a snide voice. “But what are we gonna do? She’s the boss.”  
“Drink?” Dean suggested. Ellie smirked at the man before looking him up and down and walking away. Y/N smirked to herself when she saw the way the two adults sized each other up flirtatiously. She looked at Sam to see if he’d also caught on. He hadn’t.  
“So what we think?” He asked his brother.  
“Hell hound wise? Well, Ellie’s the help so that rules her out.” Dean suggested.  
“And Carl doesn’t really seem like the sell your soul kind of type.”

“You sure?” Y/N queried. “Anyone can get desperate.”  
“Well, my bets on Alice.” Dean agreed with his brother.  
“Shall we talk to her?”  
“Why? So she can lie to our faces and then call the cops? No. We’re gonna have to go stalker on this one.”

* * *

Night had fallen and the hours of their work finally came to a close. Y/N hadn’t even looked in the room she was supposed to be staying in. She absentmindedly followed the boys into their quarters and waited until they were ready to get to their real work. The boys didn’t even bat an eyelid themselves. Having Y/N nearby was as natural as doors having door handles. Anything else would just be odd. Eventually, they quietly stalked their way to the main house where they stood behind brick pillars and watched as Alice and Carl shared dinner next to an outside fire. Y/N smiled at the way they looked happily at one another. Alice now seemed so different from the outburst they’d experienced earlier on. Right now her eyes were fawning over her husband as they laughed and shared wine. It was rather sweet, Y/N thought. She didn’t bother voicing her opinions out loud. Looking at Dean’s suspicious face as he studied the scene in front of him. Sam’s face held no emotions as he too was busy looking at the surroundings, looking for signs of hell hounds or anything not normal.

There was a loud howl through the far out trees that pulled everyone’s attention. Alice turned her head as the sound of worried and spooked horses followed.  
“Just a wolf?” Carl smiled.  
“Yeah… probably spooked the hell out of the horses.” Alice frowned. “I should check on them.”  
“Okay, hurry back.” Carl leaned over the table to quickly kiss Alice’s cheek before she stood and began walking the path towards the stables.

The hunters kept back a few feet but made sure to follow Alice on her journey. They followed her all the way down to the stables where they watched her walk in and tend to a horse. The sound of a loud howl was nearby and the team was ready to leap into action to defend the woman from the hell hound. But the screams came from the house. By the time they made it back up to the house, met by Ellie as well as Alice, it was Carl who was covered in claw marks and blood.

He had been killed by the Hell Hound.

.

.

An hour later they all stood around the poor dead Carl covered by a white sheet and small bunch of police officers roaming the grounds.  
“I’m sorry Ellie. Carl seemed like a good guy.” Dean apologized to the woman who looked down with confusion at the bloodied mess.  
“The best.” She said sadly.  
“You said his head was practically ripped off?” Sam asked the sheriff who was studying the body closely.  
“And you are?” He asked defensively.  
“Just curious…” Sam said timidly.  
“He works here, they’re new,” Ellie informed the officer.

“Carl died badly. Let’s just leave it at that. They’ve been introducing wolves back into the wood around here. But I never thought…”  
“This was no wolf,” Ellie said sombrely out loud. “I gotta make some phone calls.” She said quickly when she was met by odd stares. “The whole family is flying in for this.” She told them before turning and walking towards her office.  
“All the Cassidy’s under one roof? Good luck.” The sheriff said sarcastically before the hunters frowned and walked away.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean moaned when they were out of earshot.

“So it was Carl,” Y/N said sadly, realizing they had been following the wrong target.  
“Hell hound's gone and we were too busy chasing a big pile of jack to stop it!” Dean moaned annoyed. “I say we grab our stuff and get out of here.”

.

.

Sam went back to the stables to double-check they hadn’t left anything behind. He hadn’t expected to find Alice Cassidy standing beside a horse and grooming it lovingly. She didn’t seem to phased at his sudden appearance, barely noticing the man as he smiled awkwardly and walked past her to pick up a pair of gloves. The nurturer in Sam began to kick into action, he couldn’t help himself turn to face her with a caring stare.  
“Are you okay Mrs. Cassidy?” He asked gently. She kept her eyes on her hands as she brushed the horse slowly, mind absent to the world.  
“I’m fine.” She said oddly.  
“You sure?” Alice looked up with a squint on her face, shocked at her own answer.  
“I really am,” she told Sam. “I know I shouldn’t be because I loved Carl… I think. I just can’t remember why.” The odd answer intrigued Sam further, wondering how much more information he could get from the now Widow.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean… Carl grew up around here. We went to school together and he was always mooning over me but…” she shook her head gently. “I never… I used to make fun of him.”  
“When did you two get together?” Sam asked.  
“Valentines day 2003.” Ten years ago, after the family had struck oil. “I was at this party and Car was there. It was like I was seeing him for the first time. Suddenly he was cute, smart and funny. It was magic! Carl and I were happy for ten years and now he’s dead and I’m not sad, happy or angry… I’m just fine.”

.

.

“It’s a stupid idea Dean.” Y/N groaned as she watched Dean pack his bag, attempting to ignore her. Sam walked in to see the tension between the two and looked on curiously. Noticing his brother’s return Dean turned to talk to him instead of Y/N.  
“We got any graveyard dirt?”  
“Should… why?”  
“Yarrow?”  
“Yeah…. No! Dean! No!” Sam rolled his eyes, suddenly catching on to why Y/N was annoyed at his brother. “Dean we’re not summing and Cross Roads Demon!”  
“I tried to tell him.” Y/N sang, perching herself on a nearby table and swinging her legs.  
“Plan A-bombed! So welcome to Plan B! We get some red-eyed bitch in a trap, hold a knife on her until she brings us in a pooch. Special delivery.” Dean smirked, impressed with his own plan.  
“Accept when Crowley finds us we’re downing up Hell he won’t send one Hell Hound, he’ll send hundreds! That’s not a plan Dean, that’s suicide.”  
“I told him that.” Y/N continued to sing from the corner.  
“Okay, will you shut up!” Dean growled. “Anyone got a better idea?”  
“Yeah, we stay here!” Sam shot at his brother. “I just spoke to Alice in the barn. Carl didn’t sell his soul for oil, he sold it for Alice.” Y/N jumped off her perch to walk into the center of the room.  
“For Alice?” She asked curiously.

“He loved her, she barely noticed him so he made a deal,” Sam told her. Y/N felt her heart sink a sitter sadder as she thought back to the scene she observed earlier. Looking at the happy couple eating dinner and living in domestic bliss, it had all been fake. “And now times up it’s like share barely knew the guy.”  
“You think our demon signed more than one schmuck when he was in town?” Dean wondered.  
“It wouldn’t be the first time. Look, this family is rich because someone booked a one-way ticket downstairs. And as of tomorrow, they’re all going to be under one roof, here.”  
“We could scope them out and get another chance at a hell hound.” Y/N agreed, moving to stand by Sam in solidarity. Dean rolled his eyes at the team up but nodded.  
“Two days, then we do it my way!”

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE OVER ON PATREON:_

_SAM HEARS Y/N CRYING IN THE NIGHT AND GOES TO HER._

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

* * *

The next day brought more grey sky with light clouds placed amongst the trees. The hunters and Ellie all stood outside the house and watched as the shiny black car came into view. Ellie held her breath with feared anticipation as it came to a halt and the front door opened. Out stepped well-polished cowboy boots underneath grey trousers. Scanning up they saw the aged and well-fed body of a man in his 70’s. His grey hair contrasting against the dark blazer wrapped around his shoulders, paired with a shirt and gold cowboy necktie. The rustic but polished theme carried on up to the grey Stetson that sat on the top of his head, hiding the dark bags and circles under tired eyes.

“Noah Cassidy, he’s 71, worth a billion, and just married wife number 5. Twenty-year-old lingerie model.” Ellie explained to them as they watched Alice appear and hug her father hello.  
“because they have so much in common?” Dean snorted.  
“Alice is his oldest. And that’s Cindy, the middle girl.” From the back seat of the car came a slightly younger girl with blonde hair, a fake tan, and wrapped in a fluffy white coat. Her earrings were large and sat beside her pouting lips. “She had a single in the country charts a few years ago. Then she started hitting the bottle and… well, her last album was a bunch of holiday songs for dogs. My favorite was Jingle Bark Rock.” Ellie smirked looking over at her teammates for the night.  
“So she’s the devil,” Dean concluded.  
“Pretty much.” Ellie agreed happily. “And there’s the baby, Margo.” A girl in her twenties stepped out of the car. She had brown hair that was modestly tied back in a braid. From underneath a blue knit jumper was the collar of a white shirt. Compared to her other two sisters, she could be described as plain, but she had a natural beauty that shone brighter than jewelry and makeup. “She ran away just before Alice and Carl tied the know, lives in Paris.”

“Wow, “ Y/N murmured to herself, attempting to hide the jealousy.  
“How do you know all of this?” Sam asked curiously.

“I've been working this farm since I was 13. And I have eyes.” Ellie said pointedly as the team watched the family walk away and retreat into the house. “Okay, tonight is an all hands on deck situation,” Ellie said strongly, her authority and experience coming through. “I’m gonna need two of you inside, serving dinner and pouring drinks. A lot of drinks!” She emphasized looking at Sam and Y/N.  
“Okay, well…” Dean jauntily slapped Y/N’s back with a smug face. “I won’t wait up.”  
“Somebody’s got to man the grill.” Ellie pointed out to him. It looked like Dean wasn’t getting the night off he was hoping for.

.

.

It would only be fair to use the term entertaining to describe the Cassidy family, swell as intense. They all sat around the table, finishing off their first course and waiting for the next, eagerly swirling drinks in their glasses and ready for their next. Y/N poured Margo a glass as her eyes trailed over to Sam pouring Cindy her own. He was wearing a white shirt, untucked from his jeans. His collar was opened slightly and his sleeves rolled up to show the strength in his forearms. Y/N tried not to stare too much at this unique look for sam. She was used to his flannel and army jacket which was attractive at the best of times. But this slightly more formal look was taking its toll on Y/N’s heartbeat. She checked herself and moved to fill up Noah’s glass.  
“Really?” They hear Cassidy complain, looking at the small glass of wine Sam had poured her. “Keep it coming Ken doll.” Sam looked hesitant for a moment before continuing to fill up the woman’s glass until the bottle was empty. Cassidy still didn’t look impressed but only tutted.

The workers retreated back to the kitchen to collect more for the family’s dinner. Sam was sure he’d seen Y/N eye his arms up with a slight blush on her face before moving over to help Ellie clean up plates. He smiled smugly to himself, allowing himself the fantasy that he’d attract Y/N’s eyes with his clean non-flannel shirt. He couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down her body in her skinny dark blue jeans and casual v-neck jumper. It wasn’t a revolutionary look on Y/N, but it was enough to make his eyes fall on her hips when she turned around.  
  
“Alice, I’m so sorry.” They heard Margo say sweetly, reminding Sam at the job in hand. “I mean, Carl was the love of your life.”  
“Right…” Alice said, still trying to remember why she did in fact love Car.  
“Please, she could do better!” Their father said with a grunt.  
“Right! Maybe Alice should marry a child! Take after her father!” Cassidy said sarcastically with glass in hand.  
“Ivanka is not a child.” Her father groaned.  
“Right, she’s a prostitute! That looks like a child.” She laughed bitterly.  
“Are you done?” Marge said angrily. “Alice is in mourning!”  
“OH! I’m sorry Margie.” Cindy laughed, not done stiring at the pot just yet. “I didn’t see you there. You’re too far up on your high horse. Oh yes! But you are right. We should all take a minute and say a few words about Carl. You first, was he a good lay?” Sam and Y/N almost dropped their plate as they glanced at one another, reveling in the family drama of the rich and almost famous.  
“What?” Alice asked, shocked.  
“OH! You didn’t know? Yeah, daddy caught them going at it in the barn.”  
“Al… it was before you two got together.” Margo tried to assure her sister. “I mean Carl… he loved you.”  
“Yeah that was when Margie was fat and Cindy was sober. A long time ago!” Noel grumped to himself.

“Get cancer and die old man!” Cindy smiled raising her glass to her father.  
“You first sweetie!”

“Are they always like this?” Y/N scoffed to Ellie once they were all back in the kitchen.  
“More or less,” Ellie told them.  
“How do you work here?” Sam asked.

“I love the property, I love the animals. And I tune out the people.” Y/N smiled at the woman’s response as she handed Sam another bottle to open.

“I can’t remember the last time was all sat down to have a meal together,” Alice said fondly, looking around at her family.

“It was back at the old crappy house when Daddy invited that traveling salesman to dinner?” Cindy smirked.  
“Yeah.” Margie smiled secretly to himself.

“He was so charming.” Alice cooed.  
“And English” Cindy added.  
“What was his name? Kenny?” Noel guessed.

“No, Crowley.” The rest of the table reminded him. Sam and Y/N both turned to look at each other with utter horror.

.

.

“Crowley?” Dean asked for the two in front of him to repeat.  
“That’s what they said,” Y/N assured him.  
“Apparently he swung through town ten years ago to the day.” Sam continued with gritted teeth.

“So what? You think team Crumpets made these deals and now he’s collecting?”

“Or just sending his dogs to go fetch.” Y/N shrugged, knowing it would be unlike Crowley to get his hands dirty these days.  
“Any idea who signed the dotted line?” Dean asked.  
“Not a clue. It’s brutal in there.” Sam told him.

They were interrupted by the sound of Dean’s phone in his pocket. He saw it was Kevin and put it on speaker.  
“Hey, Kev, what’s up?”

“Dean? Good news! I think… kind of.”  
“Don’t oversell it.”  
“Sorry. Um, I found something on the tablet about hell hounds. Does this mean anything to you? The dire creatures can only be seen by the damned or through an object scorched through holy fire.”  
“Like holy oil?” Y/N asked down the phone.

“I guess. You could use glasses.’ Kevin suggested.

“I think we still got some Jesus juice in the trunk.” Dean nodded confidently. “Alright, I’ll take care of the x-ray aspects. You two stay here and don’t let them out of your sight okay?”  
“Okay, hey Kevin!” Sam called! “You did great buddy. Get some sleep.” Y/N smiled at Sam nurturing praise towards the boy whilst Dean rolled his eyes and hung up the phone.

.

.

Back in the house, Erving drinks Y/N and sam noticed that Margie and her father were no longer at the table. Cindy laughed looking through the windows.  
“Look! Daddy’s drunk and armed! Must be Christmas.” She swilled her drink in her mouth before gulping dramatically.

Sam and Y/N both looked at each other, a silent agreement going on between their eyes. It looked like Noel Cassidy and his daughter were about to go hunt the wolf that killed Carl, only they didn’t know what they were really hunting. Y/N nodded and Sam fled the room to catch up with them and try and stop any more damage. Leaving Y/N alone with the two women. Y/N went to the window and watched Sam catch up with the two Cassidy’s holding shotguns. They spoke for a while longer before Sam followed their footsteps deeper into the woods holding one of their guns. At least they had Sam to watch out for them now, Y/N thought to herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the drunken cackling of the drunkest Cassidy sister.  
“Worried about the Ken Doll, Barbie?” Y/N turned around with blushing cheeks to the sisters laughing stare.  
“Cindy, don’t,” Alice warned her playfully.  
“Oh please! It’s just us girls here. So tell me, is _he_ a good lay?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Y/N shuffled uncomfortably at her feet, picking up the empty wine bottles and carrying them to the kitchen. She hadn’t expected Cindy to be curious enough to actually follow her.  
“Secret glances across the room silent conversations and lingering eyes.” Y/N blushed, thinking that her wandering eye had gone unnoticed, apparently not. “He wants you! Can’t take his eyes off of you.” Y/N froze before swinging round to meet the woman’s gaze. It was Sam with the wandering eye?  
“We…. We’re just friends.” She stuttered. Cindy rolled her eyes, realizing she wasn’t going to get any juicy gossip from Y/N, and went back to her spot to nurse her wine glass.

Y/N hid out in the kitchen, finishing cleaning plates and glasses once Ellie finished her shift for the night and went on her way back to her room. It was all quiet and calm, if not awkward before they heard the screams and panic of Noel Cassidy being pushed back into the house. When Sam met Y/N’s eyes, followed by Dean, she knew what had happened. The hell hound had gotten Margie.

.

.

Enough was enough. Too many people had died and the hunters were tired of playing servants. With all the Cassidy’s in one room, sitting and shaking, waiting for some sort of explanation, the hunters entered the room to break their cover.  
“What was that thing?” Noel whimpered to his guests.  
“A hell hound.” Dean announced with bravado, “See when you sell your soul to a demon, they’re the ones who come and rip it out of you.”  
“Demon?” Alice asked for clarification.

“Crowley,” Y/N told them. “When he was here ten years ago, one of you made a deal and now he’s coming to collect.”  
“Poncy guy, yay big.” Dean continued, lifting his hand to his shoulder. “Mountain of dicks!”  
“If you didn’t sign, you’’ be fine. The hound won’t touch you.”  
“But if you did, I need to know and I need to know now,” Dead added harshly. “So hands up.”

“So… wait.” Noel stumbled. “The British guy was a demon, now there’s a Hell Hound after us? Are you insane?”

“Obviously they’re insane!” Cindy screeched.  
“Don’t play dumb,” Sam warned her.  
“Yeah, I’m not playing.” She spat back. “I didn’t sell my damn soul!”  
“Well somebody did.” Dean shot back. “And the sooner that idiot owns up the sooner the rest of you can go.” The entire family looked at one another, waiting for the other to admit their actions, but no one stood up. “Right, seal them in,” Dean instructed.  
“Yup,” Y/N said, getting to work.  
“Wait what?” Alice cried.  
“We’re going to spread Gofer dust a long the doors and windows,” Sam explained as Y/N reached into his bag and got to work. “It’ll stop the Hell Hound coming in here, for now."  
“How long?” Noel shouted whilst Dean went to join Y/N’s side and get back to work.  
“Long enough for me to stab it in its throat,” Dean replied colorfully.  
“No way, you can’t.” The older man began to freak, not believing the world he was currently in.

“Yes I can and you know why buddy!” Dean was getting agitated, reaching out for his gun and pulling it out for the family to see. “Because it’s what I do, and I’m the best. So I’m gonna gut old yeller out there and maybe, just maybe, you walk away. I don’t, you’re meat. So sit down! Shut up and put these on!” Dean handed each member of the family a pair of handcuffs to hold them down whilst Sam and Y/N finished sealing everybody in.

“When the hell hound gets close, you might start seeing things, hearing things,” Y/N told the group as she sprung up from the floor. “The handcuffs are to stop you hurting yourself, or anyone else for that matter.”

“And when one of you starts bugging out, we’ll know which of you is on puppy chow.” Dean continued to add unhelpful comments to the conversation before turning around and walking out the door. Y/N stayed behind to keep an eye on the family whilst the boys met in the hallway to come up with a plan.

“So what’s the play?” Sam whispered to his brother.  
“well you and Y/N camp here, try and figure out who whored their soul. I’m gonna go scour the grounds. See if I gank the dog before he makes his next move.”

“Wait, you’re not going alone Dean. I’m coming with you.” Sam argued, following his brother as he began walking through the doors.  
“Wrong,” Dean answered plainly.  
“They’re on lockdown and Y/N is there. You need back up!”  
“No, I don’t.”  
“Yes, you do.”  
“No I need you to be safe Sam, okay that’s what I need.” Sam looked at his brother as if he changed his skin color.  
“What? When have I… when have we ever been safe? When has this job ever been safe?”  
“This is different,” Dean murmured with a clenched jaw.  
“How?”

“Because of the three trials trap. God’s little obstacle course, we’ve both been down this route we know it ends with one of us dead. Or worse.”  
“so what? You just up and decide it’s going to be you?”

“I’m a grunt! You’re not, you’ve always been the brains behind this whole operation. You always have been. And you’ve told me yourself, you see an out! You see a light at the end of this ugly ass tunnel! I don’t! I’m gonna tell you what I do know. I’m gonna die with a gun in my hand. That’s all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out! I want you to have a life. Become a man of letters whatever! You with a wife, with kids, with grandkids! Living until you're fat and bald and chugging viagra! That is my perfect ending. And it’s the only one I’m going to get. So I’m gonna do the trials. I’m gonna do them alone. End of story. You’re staying here and I’m going out there. And if a land shark comes here you call me! If you try to follow me, I’m gonna put a bullet in your damn leg.” Dean's long rambling words were just about hitting home to Sam when Dean began walking away, not letting him have a moment to reply. But last-minute he stopped and walked back over to the confused face of Sam’s. Dean’s demeanor had changed, happy he’d gotten something through to Sam, but now ready to ask him one more thing. “You need to look after her.” He told him simply, pointing into the other room. Sam turned and saw Y/N pouring more dust along with the windows. “She’s got one hell of a storm coming, we all know it. We know she cries herself to sleep if she gets any sleep at all!” Dean’s words made Sam’s head snap back to look at him. He hadn’t realized Dean had picked up on Y/N’s helpless long nights as well. “Her next move could kill her before she has a chance to figure out how to save herself from this stupid deal she made trying to save me! So whatever happens between you two, whatever you finally figure out. You have to be alive to look after her. To get her out and alive of this crappy life we’ve all been thrown into as well. Okay? Promise me you’ll do that.” Sam’s eyes looked down at his brother and without realizing his body was moving, he was nodding in agreement. Then Dean left in the dead of night.

Sam stepped back into the room, ignoring the squabbles and tension from the cuffed family. Y/N was looking out the window, making sure the dust lines were all connected.  
“hey,” Sam said quietly, attracting her attention. She turned around and smiled at him lightly. The smallest smile from Y/N was like a balm to ease and burn his stomach felt. It almost made him laugh how her half, and often or not forced, smiles had that effect on him. “here.” He passed her a pair of glasses. Dean had burnt holy oil and passed the glasses through them so each hunter could see. She took them from his hand sizing them up before slipping them onto her face.  
“Geek or sexy librarian?” She joked, hoping to urge a small smile from Sam. When he didn’t smile back and simply put his own pair of glasses on, Y/N reached out a hand to his arm. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He looked down at the hand gently grasping onto his arm and felt a surge of support he didn’t know he needed.  
“Dean’s gone to kill the Hell Hound. He wants to do the trials.”  
“Okay, that’s good right?” Sam shook his head.  
“We’ve been down this road before. This doesn’t end with all of us happy and alive.” Y/N lowered her head, the realization of Dean’s demise in front of her mind's eyes. She didn’t let go of Sam’s arm thought. “These trials, they’re an out for Dean. Sacrificing himself because he doesn’t see any of this getting better.”

Y/N looked at the sad eyes on Sam’s face, quickly hidden by stray hair hanging forward when he tilted his head down. With her spare hand, she cupped the side of Sam’s face, moving the hair to the side so she could look into his eyes, and have him look back at hers. “hey.” She whispered sweetly when he looked back at her. “We’ll get him through it.” She told him before engulfing him in her arms, her hand cupping the back of his neck to keep him close. Sam’s grip around her body was tight as he saw her as his last bit of strength. Breathing in her sent and closing his eyes so he could only be surrounded by Y/N. The feel of her beneath him, hugging him back, the smell of her hair, and the sound of her breath. The Men of Letters were wrong. The bunker wasn’t the safest place on earth, Y/N was.  
  
“You sold your soul! Admit it” Cindy’s shrill accusations cut through the moment, pulling Sam and Y/N away from one another.

“And what would make you think…”  
“Because you’re a walking corpse and you married to a centerfold! I did the math.” Cindy spat bitterly over to her father. Alice sat and kept her eyes darting from her family then back over to the people she saw as her hostage-takers.  
“She makes money and I’m rich! Do it again!” Noel shot back. Sam and Y/N both sighed as Sam walked over to break the argument up. “You sing like crap so explain the music career.”  
“Hello! Autotune!”  
“Alright! That’s enough.” Sam interjected.  
“Oh is it four-eyes? Is it enough?” Cindy barked at him.  
“I don’t even know why you think one of us made a deal.” The old man grumbled.  
“Because you struck oil where there was no oil.” Y/n scoffed, walking to reach Sam’s side. “Did none of you ever think that was odd?”  
“Margie,” Alice cried gently. “She always said if we were rich, we’d be happy.” Sam and Y/N both looked at each other with tired eyes before walking back to the window as the family continued to argue.

“I need to take a leak!” Noel Cassidy brought Y/N back to the center of the room with rolling eyes.  
“Hold it,” Y/N told him.  
“Listen sweet cheeks, you don’t hold it at my age. So unless you want me to piss myself, set me free or get me a bottle.” Y/N grimaced at not only the term of endearment he’d used on her but at the description of urinating in his seat. She turned to go get a bottle, keeping one eye on Sam who was looking out of the window still. The only place she wasn’t looking was the one place she should have been looking. During the squabbles, Alice had been working to slip her hand from the handcuffs used to keep her in the chair. When Y/N turned her back she took her chance and freed herself, running straight for the door. Y/N didn’t even have a chance to react before Sam ran after. She was left in the room with the retired man holding in his pee and the most annoying woman she’d ever met.  
“Don’t move!” She told them severely.

“What do you want from us!” Cindy groaned with annoyance. “Money? Fame? The horses?” She laughed.  
“Believe it or not we’re here to save your ungrateful asses! And putting ourselves in harm's way to do it!”

Alice ran back into the room, eyes covered in tears and fear.  
“Where’s Sam?” Y/N asked, noting his absence. If she’d tried to run away, why had Alice come back, and without the escort of Sam? Alice just shook like a leaf, filled with fear. Her eyes made Y/N’s heart beat fast with anxiety as she ran to push past her and into the cold night, to find Sam.

She ran all over the farm as fast as she could, running first to the Impala hoping that made he’d just gone to get something. But when she arrived at the car to see no sign of either him or Dean she moved quickly in the direction of the other barns. She ran to the room they’d occupied hoping to find him in there but still nothing. She sprinted over to the other barn when she heard a growl and groans from Dean. As she ran she heard bullets shoot from a gun and felt her stomach fall to the floor. Images of Sam on the floor in a pool of blood ran through her mind, switching between Dean and Sam’s face. As she ran up the hill her feet slipped on the grass that had just been watered by sprinklers. Landing on her face, she groaned at the sudden blow to her stomach, and her glasses went flying from her face. But she moved back to her feet within a second. When she reached the barn she was stunned as she saw Dean against a wall, crawled into a ball with his stomach bleeding from a large claw mark. His eyes were wide as he looked over at Sam who was laying on his back, hand in the air as if pushing an invisible force off of him, and suddenly blood gushed and swan all over his chest. Y/N screamed out in horror, thinking Sam had been cut, but as the blood continued to flow, not from Sam but from the air above him, she remembered her glasses had been forgotten and discarded. It didn’t stop her from running over to him when he rolled over and grunted.  
“Sam?” She begged, her hands moving over his chest for any signs of harm. But it was blood poured from someone else.  
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He breathed heavily. “Dean,” he grunted. Y/N turned her head and realized that even though Sam was covered in blood, it was Dean who was hurt. She ran over to him, crouching beside him.  
“I’ll try not to be offended.” He laughed painfully.  
“Sorry.” She apologized, moving his hands away from his stomach. “I can make it better.” She told him, rubbing her hands together and igniting the glow from her palms.  
“Like hell, you will,” Dean grunted, pushing her away.  
“Dean it’s not fatal, I can take it”  
“So can I!” He groaned pushing himself up to standing.

Sam’s earlier words echoed through Y/N’s head as she pushed herself up off the floor. Dean really cared little for himself right now. As long as he completed the trails he was willing to die. It was then that it dawned on Y/N yet again what had just happened. Dean hadn’t completed the trial, Sam had.

* * *

It turns out that Ellie was the one to make the last of the three deals that happened 10 years ago. The hunters now had a clear picture of what had happened on that date. Carl had made a deal to win the love of Alice. Crowley had come to dinner with the Cassidy’s and convince Margie to make a deal. She was the one who sealed the deal with a kiss that earned her family the wealth they were now accustomed to. Upon seeing this deal being made, Ellie had been spotted by Crowley, who bought Ellie’s should in return for her mother’s health.

Back in Ellie’s room, she was tending to the scars across Dean’s stomach, since he refused to let Y/N heal them. Sam and she stood at the back of the room, watching as Dean winced as Ellie applied anti-bacteria spray. With every wince, Sam felt Y/N butter and jump slightly, desperate to run to Dean and just take the pain from him. Sam placed a hand gently on her back and drew gentle circles with his thumb to try and calm her.

“You need to go to a hospital.” Ellie lectured Dean as he pushed his shirt back down around himself.  
“Nah, I’ve had worse.” He brushed away. Ellie turned to look at Sam and Y/N, hoping they would help convince him, but they both shrugged and nodded their heads.  
“He’s had worse,” Sam repeated.  
“So what now?” Ellie asked Dean.  
“Now we make a hex bag and you start running. If Crowley can’t find you then he can’t stick another dog on you.”  
“So I’m not going to hell?”  
“Not on my watch.” This time it was Y/N who had to put her hand on Sam’s back, mainly to pull him back from stepping forward and correcting what his brother was saying. Whether or not it was a Hell Hound that took her there, Ellie was signed up to go to Hell. She’d signed her soul away and when the day came when she did breath her last breath, she was heading down, not up. “Will you give us a minute?” Dean asked Ellie when he saw the slight movement of his brother and friend.  
“Sure.” Ellie nodded and left the room for the hunters to talk in private.

When the door finally closed, Y/N let go of her crib of Sam’s T.Shirt and let him step towards his brother.  
“Dean, even if she can dodge Crowley, as soon as Ellie dies, her soul is earmarked for hell.”

“Not if we shut hell down first.” Dean countered bitterly, taking the piece of paper from Y/N’s hands that read the spell they needed to speak after each trial.  
“The spell isn’t going to work for you, Dean,” Y/N said quietly, looking down at her hands as if they had the magical answer to all of their problems. Dean sighed and glared at her briefly before shaking his shoulders loose and reading out the words of Enochian. But nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter.” He grunted, putting the spell in his pocket. “We track down another Hell Hound and I’ll kill it.”  
“No,” Sam answered simply.  
“Sam I didn’t pass the test!” Dean shouted back.  
“But I did. And I’m doing the rest of them.” Dean said calmly but sternly.  
“My ass you are!” Dean scoffed.  
“Closing the gates, it’s a suicide mission for you.”  
“Sam,” Dean went to argue, eyes darting at Y/N quickly, noting the lack of surprise in her face. He guessed she and his little brother had already spoken about this topic of conversation.  
“I want to slam hell shut too! But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family! Hell, you even have your own room now!” Sam chuckled lightly. “You’re right, I see a light at the end of this tunnel. And I’m sorry you don’t. I am, but it’s there. And if you come with me, with us, we can take you to it.”  
“Sam, be smart.”  
“He is being smart.” Y/N finally spoke up, stepping up to join the boys who stood in front of her.  
“So you’re on board with this?” Dean challenged.  
“I don’t want either of you doing these stupid trials,” Y/N argued. “But out of the two of you, at least Sam wants to survive them. At least he’ll try to stay with us after all this is over. Right now, I look at you Dean and I would be surprised if you jumped in a pool of acid if you thought it would help.”  
“You’re not a grunt, Dean. You’re a genius.” Sam continued. “When it comes to Lore. You’re the best damn hunter I have ever seen. Better than me, better than dad.”  
“If I wasn’t so magical you’d probably be better than me.” Y/N teased, desperately trying to pull a smile from Dean.  
“We believe in you, Dean. So please, please, believe in me too.” Sam begged. Dean looked between both his brother and his friend and saw the desperate plea in both of their eyes. With a tight hand, he forced himself to hand over the spell to Sam.

Sam read the words out allowed gently. As the last syllable left his mouth, it was like a pounding wave crashed across his body and rang through his ears.  
“Sam?” Dean asked when he noticed his brother flinch. He turned away from them and fell to his knees and bit back the pain through his body. “Sammy?” Dean called. Y/N followed Sam’s direction and fell to knees beside him, gripping her hands across his shoulder to hold him upright. She and Sam both looked in awe when they watched the pain in Sam’s arm turn into light. His skin went translucent with gold and pink as the shadows of his veins could be seen clearer than the hair on his arms. Sam bunched his hand into a fist and fought against the floor until the light disappeared and the pain went.  
“I’m good, I’m okay.” He breathed heavily, looking at the teary and feared eyes of Y/N beside him. She nodded, cautiously helping him back up to standing as they turned back to Dean.” I’m good,” he repeated. “I can do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won’t lie to you, not every sentence was written with joy. It’s been a long and tiring week for me. But as I finished writing this chapter and proofreading the story I was so glad I didn’t give up. I loved writing the gentle touch of Sam and Y/N slowly reconnecting, even if it wasn’t the same as it was before. But there’s always hope!


	14. Man's Best Friend With Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets sent an odd text and requests help from an old friend. They enter an oddly familiar world of witches and witchcraft that causes tensions between our hunting trio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember watching this episode for the first time and loving it, but also being a little irked at Dean’s black and white thinking when it comes to Witches. Since our beloved Y/N is a witch, I imagined she too would have some issues with this. Let me know what you think! Sending love and health - herstorybooks

Being woken up in the morning by Dean’s bouncing and bossy voice was not the way Y/N had hoped to start her day, but here she was. She sat in the back seat of the Impala, listening to the brothers in the front talk casually, and tried to focus on the soft rock music coming from the radio. The day was well and truly behind them, the moon in the air and the roads lit by street lamps. Dean had said he’d received a text from an old friend. Well, 'friend' was pushing it really. Someone who had saved their arses massively on a hunt, many years ago. He’d texted Dean asking for him and Sam to come to meet him and help him out with a case. Dean had rolled his eyes but Sam had convinced him to pack his bag and hauled into the Impala. Y/N tried to argue her need on this case, saying she was tired and would rather stay in the bunker. But all it took was Sam’s sad face when she suggested the idea for her to change her mind and pack her bag.

They finally rolled into town and pulled up outside the motel room they had booked for the night. As they all stepped out of the car, Y/N was half-listening to the pathetic and pointless argument the boys had been focussing on for the last half hour.  
“Wow! You know, out of all the lame-ass things you’ve ever said? That’s got to be the lame-ass-iest,”  
“I’m sorry,” Sam rolled his eyes sarcastically. “But I think Shemp was a funnier Stooge than Curley.”  
“Curley was a friggin’ genius!” Dean argued back, picking up his bag and slamming the car door shut.  
“I always found Curley’s work a bit obvious.” Sam retorted.

“It’s supposed to be obvious! They’re Stooges!” Dean insisted. Y/N continued to ignore their argument as she lifted her back around her shoulder and opened the door to the motel room.

“So we gonna call James tonight?” Sam asked his brother.  
“Nah, just do it tomorrow,” Dean answered. “That drive was a bitch.”  
“What does the guy want?” Y/N finally spoke up, hauling her bag onto the nearby sofa, claiming it casually.  
“I dunno, the text said he needed help. He’s a cop so I reckoned it was work-related.” Dean shrugged.  
“Yeah, we do owe him,” Sam added, setting his bag down on the floor.  
“The guy saved our lives once! It’s not like the guy…”  
“Saved your lives.” Y/N finished with a smug face as she began to unpack her nightwear and toiletry bag.

Dean grunted annoyingly, knowing Y/N had a point.  
“I’m going for a beer run, you two need anything?”  
“Nope,” Y/N replied as she sat down on the sofa and pulled out her book.  
“Nah I’m good.” Sam agreed.  
“You sure?” Dean asked.  
“Yeah.” Sam looked up and his brother was staring intently at him with that face that said he was contemplating whether to push what he was really thinking further.  
“Cus you did just gank a hell hound, which is…. No slice of pie and err, there is a mind field of who knows what ahead. Just want to make sure you’re okay.” Y/N looked up at the complex interaction with the brothers and watched Sam’s face still as he repeated his earlier answer.  
“I’m good.”

“Cus you know, we could find another devil dog. You could tag out and I could snuff the son of a bitch.”  
“Dean!” Sam sighed. “Kevin doesn’t even know what the next trial is yet. So whatever it is you’re worried about, stop. I’ll be ready.” Sam’s attempt at convincing his brother was close to a final. Y/N could see the tension in Dean’s back, he was about to argue even further, no debatably lighting a match for an intense row.  
“Jesus Dean! Go get the beer!” Y/N laughed, hoping to soothe the tension a bit. Dean turned and looked at her smiling face and took the hint. He nodded heavily and left to jump in the car.

“Thanks,” Sam said quietly once the door was shut. Y/N nodded with a slight smile, signally he was welcome.

Ten minutes went by as Sam slowly began to unpack his things, eyes occasionally drifting over to Y/N who had now moved to take place on Dean’s bed. Her feet resting on the mattress as she read her book sleepily. He smiled to himself and went to the bathroom to put his toiletry bag to the side. As he did, he swore he heard something at the door. He went back into the main room when the sound didn’t stop. Y/N was too engrossed in her book to even have noticed. “You hear that?” He asked her.  
“Hear what?” Y/N asked, putting her book down and looking up at him. She lifted her ear to the room and heard the scratching. She frowned slightly as Sam went over to the door to open it. He cracked the door slightly before fully opening it and being greeted by a beautiful black dog with a ruby red collar. The dog tilted its head at Sam with a slight whine. Sam’s body blocked Y/N’s view as she remained in suspense. Sam looked around outside the door, expecting to see the dog's owner looking for their pet, but the streets were empty.

Suddenly the dog ran in-between Sam’s legs and pounced into the room.  
“Whoah! Whoah! Whoah!” Sam attempted to deter the dog but it was too late. Y/N watched with surprise as the dog leaped onto the bed she was sitting on and crawled up beside her body.  
“What the?” Y/N stuttered as the dog nudged her hand with its head. It continued to nuzzle her and Y/N gave in and petted the dog behind the ears.  
“Oh hell.” Sam groaned as he closed the door. A dog being on Dean’s bed would lead to days worth of tantrums from the older brother.  
“She’s gorgeous.” Y/N laughed as Sam walked over to her and the dog that was rubbing its head against Y/N’s hand happily.  
“Yeah,” Sam laughed when as he stood by her side. He reached out a hand to ask for the dog's friendship, which the dog accepted gratefully. She rolled over away from Y/N and onto her back, exposing her belly to Sam. Y/N and Sam both chuckled warmly. “Oh, you want a little belly scratch huh?” Sam rubbed and scratched the dog's belly playfully as Y/N watched with warm eyes at the interaction.  
“Who do you think she belongs to?” She asked, reaching for the dog's collar and noticing the lack of tags.  
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked the dog quietly.

The Impala’s purr and headlights shone through the window and signaled Dean’s return. Sam and Y/N both looked at one another with wide eyes and scurried to standing by the door.  
“Shit,” Y/N muttered, prompting a whine from the dog. They both ran to the door and stood outside the motel room before Dean could have a chance to enter the room.  
“Hey!” Sam greeted enthusiastically.  
“hey…” Dean replied suspiciously, looking at the over-exaggerated smiles of Sam and Y/N.  
“Okay, okay. Before you get pissed off, I want you to know this isn’t our fault.” Sam began to ramble. “She just showed up at the door okay.”  
“Yeah, she didn’t track in any mud, she just wanted her belly scratched!”  
“We figured she could stay the night and try to find her home tomorrow?” Sam reached behind him for the door handle and pushed the door wide open.

Dean looked past Sam and Y/N with a suspicious eye and Y/N continued to smile painfully. He looked deeper into the room and saw a beautiful woman in a figure-hugging black dress, matching heels, and long legs sitting on Dean’s bed. Her skin was a beautiful shade of mahogany that contrasted nicely against the bright red collar necklace around her throat. She had sultry eyes and smooth curled black hair.  
“She can stay the night.” Dean nodded happily, taking in the woman’s presence. Y/N and Sam both looked oddly at Dean, expecting more of a fight before turning around and looking into the room. They saw the woman with a slight smirk on her lips and both panicked, reaching for the blades always hidden in their jeans.  
“Two seconds ago she was a dog.”

The hunters quickly entered the room, expecting a fight of some kind.  
“Who the hell are you?” Y/N asked, feeling oddly betrayed by the smoke and mirrors from what she thought was an innocent and beautiful animal.  
“I’m not a shapeshifter.” The woman replied in a deep voice. “So you can stash the blade. I’m a familiar.”  
“A what?” Dean asked confused. Y/N suddenly had a sink in her stomach as she felt like a premonition of where this was taking her.  
“A companion to a witch,” Sam said with a tight jaw.  
“Some witches.” Y/N corrected him. “They go between human and animal form.”  
“I get a more accurate read on people in my other persona .” The woman told them, eyeing Y/N up suspiciously. “Approaching guys in a motel room like this, well it gets complicated. My name’s Portia, I belong to James Frampton.” Dean scoffed and laughed at the woman.  
“No that doesn’t work for us cus that would mean that our buddy James, is a witch.”  
“Wow, you’re quick.” Portrait said condescendingly.  
“James is a friggin witch?” Dean asked with an angry gruff that Y/N tried not to read too much into.  
“He wasn’t when you met him. But that last case you worked on with him, made him want to learn more about that world.” Portia finally stood from the bed, taking slight steps closer to them, naturally leaning closer to Y/N. “The black arts, witchcraft, it became the center of his life.” Sam watched the woman suspiciously, noticing the natural pull she seemed to have towards Y/N.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that James the cop, became a witch because of us? Nah.” Dean laughed looking at his brother before looking down at Y/N who was eyeing him oddly.  
“You don’t like dogs, do you?” Portia asked.  
“So James isn’t a cop anymore?” Sam asked.

“Sure he is. Homicide detective. His new powers make his work better than ever.”  
“So what does he need from us?”

“Well, something’s been happening to him. It started with excruciating headaches, screaming sounds in his ears, horrible nightmares. Unable to sleep, eat or think. He can’t work, it’s like he’s having a breakdown. Maybe you can find a way to help him.”

“Well, hears the thing, Witches, not real fans.” Dean scoffed.  
“really?” Portia asked.  
“Yeah, really?” Y/N echoed over towards Dean, who ignored her burning stare as Portia stepped forward.

“Well James is a cop with a spotless record, he uses his skills for nothing but good, so why don’t you lose your ignorant bigotry for maybe two seconds and give him a shot.” Dean looked down at the woman, trying to find anger or annoyance but instead, he gulped.  
“That was incredibly hot.” He muttered to himself. Y/N rolled her eyes and groaned.  
“It was pretty hot.” Sam agreed when Portia looked at him for shared disgust. Y/N quickly lifted her hands and smacked both of them up the back of the head.

.

.

Eventually, the aggressive atmosphere lifted from the room as everyone grabbed a beer and found a spot to sit and listen to Portia’s tale. Y/N chose to stand close to walls, protecting her backs as the other men sat comfortably in chairs. The closeness to the wide witch community was making her skin itch slightly and heartbeat anxiously.  
“So these dreams James is having, he thinks they're real?” Dean asked. “He thinks he is actually killing people?”

“I think so,” Portia answered, fingers tracing nervously around the label of the beer bottle. “At least that’s what I picked up before he started blocking me.”  
“What does that mean? Blocking you?” Sam asked.

“Familiars and their masters can share a bond. They can communicate telepathically.” Y/N told them from her spot in the room. Portia looked over at Y/N and nodded, her suspicions slowly seeming to be correct.  
“I can get inside of James’ head any time I wanted. But he shut me out.”  
“Do you think there’s something there he doesn’t want you to see?” Sam guessed.  
“Possibly, yeah. Something dark. Something that’s destroying him. He can’t go to the police and he doesn’t trust other witches.”  
“But he trusts us?” Dean asked not convinced. “I mean you do know who we are? We’re the last people someone like James wants to be telling his troubles to?” Portia squinted confused before turning to look at Y/N who kept her eyes on the floor.  
“This was my idea.” She confessed, turning back to the boys. “I was the one who sent you the text under James’s name. He has no idea you’re here, but I think you may be all he has.”

.

.

They agreed to meet Portia and see James the next day, closing the door on her as she returned to her home. When the door was shut Dean turned to look over at Sam sitting in the table musing over the information they had received and Y/N still hovering at the wall.  
“Anyone else pick up on the…. Thing?” He asked, motioning his hand over to Y/N. Sam nodded and looked at her, waiting for a reply. She stared without blinking at the two of them before sighing.  
“Familiars seek out their witches. She can probably sense the… magic thing.” She shrugged, chucking her bottle into the bin. “Probably confused her since you were talking about how much you hate witches.” She said under her breath as she headed for the bathroom. But the words did float over to the boys who looked at one another, sensing a storm brewing.

* * *

Sitting in James’s front room, having received a confused and not particularly happy welcome the team listened as he and Portia argued in the next room.  
“You had no right to do this!” James yelled over at Portia.

“I was afraid for your life!”

“My life is non of their business!” They heard a pitter-patter across the wooden floor and eventually, Portia appeared in front of them in dog form. Sam and Dean looked at one another, still not used to the switching of personas. James finally walked out, face tired and eyes carrying heavy bags.  
“Sam, Dean. er…”  
“Y/N,” Y/N introduced herself, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. When their palms met the familiar tingle of magic resting in their veins, waiting to be used could be felt between the two. Y/N pulled her hand away from his when he looked up at her with confusion.  
“Witchcraft, James? Really? What the hell were you thinking?” Dean’s continued distaste for the black arts was carried with his disappointed tone.  
“You come here to help or pile it on?” James sighed.  
“I’m just saying, you screw with that stuff you’re gonna fry you wiring.”  
“Hey,” Y/N argued gruffly. Dean looked over at her face, for a second confused as to where her offended feeling came from.  
“You’re different.” He dismissed quickly.  
“Really? How so?” Y/N asked aggressively.  
“Okay, that’s enough.” Sam interrupted, turning back to address James who was looking at Y/N even more oddly. “Let’s talk about these dreams. You said people were dying in them.”  
“Dying… they were torn to bits,” James confessed, rubbing his hand over his weary face. “I could feel my fingers ripping into their flesh.”  
“But they were dreams?” Dean asked.

“Well, I err… woke up in my bed.”  
“Okay, so dreams?”  
“Not so sure.” He confessed heavily.  
“Not helping, James.  
“Those people, they died. I checked with the precinct.” The hunters felt the heavy hand of more deaths on their conscious and now knew that whatever trouble their friends James was facing, it was linking to the loss of lives and possibly by his hands. Still trying to stay positive, Sam quickly came up with a theory.  
“So maybe you heard about it and it stuck in your head?”  
“You don’t think I told myself that, you think id didn’t say it was me who could do such a thing?” Agitated at the possible thoughts of his own hands taking lives, James shifted around on his feet before reaching down to pull out a plastic bag containing and white bloodied shirt.  
“Is it yours?” Y/N asked. He answered her by turning the shirt over to see the initials JMF.  
“James Martin Frampton.” He sighed regretfully, slumping down into his chair. “What’s happening to me.” He begged as the hunters sat down with him.  
“Okay how about this,” Dean began. “Ummm…. You pissed off another witch and he or she hexed you to er….”  
“It’s possible.” James guessed. “I suppose, but I never heard of it.”  
“What about you?” Dean asked Y/N. She shifted uncomfortably under the spotlight but rattled her brain for something useful.  
“well… I can think of a few spells that would control mortals, mind control, against you will kind of stuff. But a spell or magic to control another witch… that’s heavy stuff. Nothing I’ve heard of either.’  
“So… you are a witch?” James asked, finally wanted an answer to his and Portia’s suspicions.  
“Yeah,” Y/N sighed. “Kinda… it’s complicated.” James scoffed.  
“And you hypocrites were giving me a hard time about witchcraft when you have your own pet witch on hand?”  
“Pet Witch?” Y/N laughed in disbelief.  
“Okay let’s just stay on track.” Sam detoured the conversation quickly. “How many of these dreams have you had?”  
“Four,” James answered with a sigh. “Most recent was last night. A blind man. I was choking him and er…” he couldn’t bring himself to paint the picture with words of the man's horrid death.  
“Okay James, we’re gonna help you out but you’re gonna have to stay put.” Dean told him, reaching for his bag and pulling out a clump of iron chains, “You’re gonna have to stay put. House arrest my friend.”

* * *

They left James in his house whilst the hunters went back to the motel room and went through the usual process. Sam was looking over the police files of the latest murders, Y/N was scanning her books, journals, and history books for any sign of a witch on witch attack of this kind, and Dean had gone to collect a series of ingredients from one of Bobby’s old spells. It made Y/N uncomfortable knowing that there was a mixture of bits and pieces thrown into a bottle that could easily lead to her demise or any other witch for that matter. She understood the need for the witch-killing spell. If this was another witch causing these attacks, then they would have to take them out, and a usual bullet to the head wouldn’t do the trick. But still, it made Y/N’s skin crawl knowing Dean was out there, picking up pieces for such a spell.

Sam sat on the bed, researching on his laptop but keeping a close eye on the woman sitting at the table. He sensed her discomfort, her irritated groans at Dean’s quick comments about witches. He had to admit he agreed with his brother to a certain extent. Y/N was the first real powerful witch that hadn’t been hell-bent on using her powers for selfish reasons, it was difficult to believe there were others like her. But Sam was at least able to humor the idea for a while. He spoke his words carefully, knowing they could easily sting at Y/N’s core without intention. He hated it when she was quiet. It always meant she was pushing something back and away from the light. Usually anger, or worry, or secrets. Right now he imagined it was simply hurt.

After a while they heard the Impala’s engine roll up to the motel and was shortly followed by Dean strutting into the room, holding a brown paper bag up high.  
“Got the last of it.” He announced as he closed the door.  
“Alright, well I have been looking over the crime scene reports and they are exactly the way James told us. Vics, dates, location, and the most recent one was a blind man just like he said.”  
“That’s not good,” Dean grunted, throwing his keys onto the second table in the room. The table was filled with jars are different magical ingredients, black candles, and a clear glass jar.  
“Also, I looked into his record on the force…” Sam continued as Dean chucked a series of dead animal pieces wrapped in plastic bags to join the other materials. “He went from rookie detective to Lieutenant basically overnight! And in the last 4 years, his solve rate has been right around 100%”  
“Little magic goes a long way,” Y/N mumbled from her space in the corner. Dean rolled his eyes and turned to the table filled with different jars and animals.  
“You know we’ve never actually seen this witch-killing spell of Bobby’s actually work right? I mean this is not a sure thing.” Sam laughed in response.  
“Is anything we every do a sure thing?”  
“Well no, but I’d like to have the odds in our favor as much as possible.” He continued to insist.  
“right…” Sam replied, sensing something deeper to his worries.  
“Well, I’m concerned.” Dean carried on. Y/N looked up and saw the interaction and in her head mentally counted to three. When she reached her number she wasn’t surprised at the next sentence to leave Sam’s mouth.   
“Concerned about the witch-killing spell or that I’m going to mess these trials up?” |  
“Here we go again,” Y/N whispered to herself, turning the page. Dean sent her a death stare but went on to ignore her.  
“Look, we get too far down the road with this, we can’t go back. It’s gonna be too late for me to jump in.”  
“Who says you’re gonna have to?” Sam asked angrily, offended yet again at his brother's lack of faith in him. “You know maybe I’ll actually pull this one-off.”  
“I’m just saying…”  
“I know what you’re saying, Dean. You’ve said it. You know I’ve been going over this and over this, asking myself why doesn’t he trust me? And it occurred to me, it’s not that you can’t trust me. It’s that you can only trust you.” Dean gulped angrily, staring his brother down.  
“You done?”  
“Yeah, I’m done if you’re done.”  
“Great!” Y/N chirped up. “Because I am officially done with you two having the same argument over and over again. Can we focus on helping James please?”  
“Fine,” Dean grunted, turning back and picking up the bottle on the table. “You know, once we’ve made this thing, if we have to use it, we can’t hesitate.”  
“What you mean? Using it on James?” Y/N asked.  
“Look I like James, as much as the next guy. But people are getting ganked here.” Dean defended himself. Y/N stood from her spot, over to him with fire in her eyes. “Look James chose this life!” Dean tried to continue.  
“So did I.,” Y/N said coldly. “What if it was me? Would you be so trigger happy then?” Y/N spat looking at the boy's solum faces. “Maybe you would,” she laughed. “Maybe James is right, maybe I am just your witch on a leash. If I ever get out of hand you’ll just turn that spell on me right?”  
“Y/N stop,” Sam attempted to calm her down but was ignored as she grabbed her coat angrily.  
“Save it.” She stepped out of the motel room, slamming the door behind her and quickly storming down the street, eager to get away from the boys and their witch-killing spell. With every step she took, looking down at her feet she was reminded of another time she had been quickly pacing down a road to a cold alleyway in the middle of the night.

.

.

_Staring at her feet, stepping into shallow puddles that were filling slowly by the rain, Y/N quickly stepped through the streets and alleys until she arrived at the absconded wear-house.  
“Why do these things always go down in creepy old factories.” She asked herself, taking in the rusting building. She stepped through the door that announced her arrival with a blood-curdling screech, quickly followed by a loud slam that made Y/N jump. She turned to the door, debating whether or not to check it was still unlocked.  
“You came?” She turned back to her front to face the pervy black-haired demon who had found her at the bar.  
“Yeah well, don’t read too much into it.” She shrugged sarcastically. “Not here for you dark eyes.” The demon smirked at her fake confidence and began walking further into the center of the factory. Cautiously Y/N followed. “Stop there.” The Demon suddenly turned once they were standing in the middle of the room. Y/N eyed him suspiciously but followed his commands. She felt a cold chill run through her veins as the wind and rain from the outdoors wafted in through broken windows. Y/N noted the demon’s lack of a shiver._

_The demon focused his eyes into the shadows and eventually, a woman in a purple dress stepped forward. With a dark cloak wrapped around her shoulders and hooded around her head, Y/N was unable to make out any hair or a face, hidden in the shadows._

_“You’ve been making quite a stir in my community.” The woman said in a deep voice.  
“Yeah well… I’m on a mission,” Y/N smirked.  
“To find Dean Winchester?” Y/N was taken back slightly at the woman’s knowledge.  
“How do you know about him?” The woman laughed loudly and confidently in response.  
“I’m a witch dear! We know all about the Winchesters. I notice the tall one isn’t with you. Pray to tell, what happened to him.” Y/N’s heart quickly at the mention of Sam. It twitched with both hurt and protective instinct.  
“He’s none of your concern. I’m here because apparently, you can give me what I want.”  
“A fast track to magic, yes I heard.” The woman tutted to herself. “Quite a dangerous route you’re taking. Very risky.” Y/N said nothing, not keen to give this witch more information about herself than she had already gathered. “Well, you’re in luck. I’m only a soft giving witch and I can give you the power you desire.”  
“And why would you do that? What’s in it for you?” Y/N questioned suspiciously.  
“Contrary to popular belief, not all witches are united.” Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the statement. “There’s a war coming, and I need allies. If I do this for you, you will owe me your services when such time comes.” Y/N had the feeling in her gut that there was more to this small print than was being communicated to her.  
“What else?” She demanded. The witch laughed.  
“Can’t pull a fast one on you can I dear? Well, I hate to bring this up. But hunters are known to not be rather too friendly with my kind. If I transferred you all this magical power, well what’s stopping you from killing me and never paying your debt.”  
“Nothing,” Y/N stated with a grin.  
“Wrong.” The woman answered sternly. “If I gift you this magic, it comes with some restrictions.”  
“What restrictions?”  
“Well to make sure you don’t do any deadly spells that could lead to mine or any of my friend's demise, there will be a reflector on your powers.”  
“A reflector?”  
“Any spell you cast, any magic you use, a certain amount will be reflected back onto you and your body. Call it insurance.” She said with what Y/N thought was a cheeky grin.  
“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I’m not playing this game with you.” She laughed as she turned to walk away.  
“That’s fine dear. I’m sure wherever Dean Winchester is, he’ll be fine waiting for you to take a long way.” The woman laughed. “Assuming he’s not dead already.” Y/N stopped in her tracks and she was reminded as to what sent her on this path in the first place. She was alone, there was no Sam or Bobby to help her, and so far she was doing a shit job of searching for Dean or Kevin. And every day that they were lost, was another group of people destined to die because they weren’t there to save them. She sighed and slumped her shoulders. She only wanted to find Dean, which wouldn’t require too much dangerous magic would it? She turned back to the shadowed figure and nodded.  
“Fine.”  
“Wonderful!” The woman cackled. “Now don’t worry, this won’t hurt one bit. Hold out your hands.” Y/N followed the woman’s instructions, facing her palms upright to the sky, trying to stop them from shaking. She heard the woman breathe in heavily and a flash of purple surrounded her body before floating into the hair as the woman shouted something incoherent to Y/N. The energy turned to gold and darted straight to Y/N, knocking her over on the floor._

_Face to face with the wet floor, she took in the tingling feeling that went through her body, it was painful. She felt daggers running through her blood, making it hard to breathe as she coughed and spluttered on her own air supply. Her vision was starting to blur and just as she assures this had been a trap, that she was bout to be a victim to another witch’s hands, she felt something within her burn and ignite. She gasped loudly as suddenly her body relaxed and she could breathe. Gasping for air she stood back up on her two feet and felt her body go warm, her eyes glow golden as her vision came back to her. She looked around and she was alone, but she felt powerful._

* * *

After Y/N stormed out of the motel room, the boys decided not to follow her. Instead of giving her time alone since she seemed to crave it right now. So the boys decided to carry on with the hunt, split up, and find Y/N later. But that didn’t stop Sam worrying about her as he made his way to the East St.Louis Police Department.  
“Vics tore up pretty bad.” He commented to the pathologist who had just finished showing him the body of the most recently deceased.  
“Like something was trying to tear him to pieces, like that could happen.” He laughed. “Ed!” He called out as he walked Sam into the main office. An older man grey and balding turned around to see them. “Ed Stoltz, he’s the lead detective on the case. Special agent Keith.” He introduced the two men as Sam reached to shake the older man’s hand.  
“Joshua tells me you don’t have much to go on.”  
“Yeah, isolated parts of the city. Vics were nobodies.” He said rather distastefully.

“Yeah, well me and my partner had a look at the crime scene.”  
“things must really be slow at the beuro,” Stoltz interrupted with s snide smile. “Locations have already been locked down.”  
“well, we did manage to find this piece of fabric.” Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a bagged clipping of the bloody shirt James had given them earlier. “Things get overlooked.” He said smugly. “It happens. Why don’t you run the blood, could be murderer’s, could be the vic’s. Why don’t you see if you get a match.” Stoltz took the shirt and handed it to Joshua who quickly scurried off to complete the task.  
“A whiteness did say he saw a man in a suit and white shirt running from the area.”  
“You didn’t mention a witness in your report,” Sam said suspiciously. “Anything else?”  
“No, we’ll get back to you on the blood,” Stoltz said dismissively, turning away from Sam to end their interaction.  
“Sure but this witness…”  
“That’s all that was said, agent Keith. We really don’t have a lot to go n. We’ll be in touch.” He demised the man again.

* * *

Meanwhile, across town Dean and Portia were walking down the steps to a bar filled with witches and witches alike. Each one gave Dean an odd glare as he breezed past them.  
“am I getting the stink eye in here or what?” He asked the woman.  
“They can tell you’re an outsider.” She told him.

“Are they all witches?”  
“And stuff. But if there’s information out there about James, they’ll know.” Dean looked around at the bar setting. If it hadn’t been for the knowledge of witches and magic beings alike, he could grow to like the rustic jazz-styled interior.  
“How did James find you anyway?”  
“Didn’t your witch friend tell you? That’s not how it works.” Dean felt a pang of guilt in his stomach at the mention of Y/N, who currently was god knows where. “The familiar finds the master and they become inseparable.”  
“I guess a lot of people feel that way about their pets.” Dean shrugged. Portia stopped walking, turning to glare at Dean with fierce eyes.  
“I’m not James’s pet!” She spat.  
“Well, not all the time.” Dean laughed to himself. Portia didn’t find this funny and grabbed him by the coat collar.

“Not ever. The master and the familiar have an unbreakable bond. It’s a bonding of souls. We would die for each other!”

“Pooortiaaa!” A man across the bar called over to the woman as he lounged on an exaggerated sofa. Portia rolled her eyes slightly as she walked towards the man, leading Dean with her  
“Dean, meet Philippe Lechat. Dean’s a Wiccan from Detroit.” She lied as they came closer to the man.  
“Really? Well… sit. A lot of strangers at the moment.” He chuckled as the two sat across from him.  
“Spencer here?” Portia asked.  
“Somewhere.” Dean suddenly sneezed as he sat.  
“That’s weird, usually only happens around cats.” He muttered to himself.

“So tell me about James, a lot of buzz out there,” Philippe asked slowly.  
“All gossip.” Portia insisted. “The community has a little attitude going,” Portia said with a forced smile at Dean. Philippe scoffed at her comment.  
“He brings it on himself. The whole cop thing. Witch cop. Is he nuts?”  
“I said the exact same thing.” Dean grinned.  
“Then there’s you babe. It isn’t done Portia and you know it.” Philippe smirked looking over to Portia who now looked uncomfortable in her seat.

“Remind me, what isn’t done,” Dean asked.

Before anyone could answer his question, a taller man with short hair and a suit stepped over to their table.  
“Portia, “ he began before looking down at Dean.  
“er… I’m a Wiccan from Detroit.” Dean smiled charmingly.  
“Spencer is the man to ask,” Portia explained.  
“Oh!” Dean chirped up looking over to the man. “Have you ever heard of a spell of a witch controlling the actions of another witch…. Achoo!” He sneezed again, interrupting his thought process.  
“No, I've never heard of a thing like that. And funnily enough, you’re not the first person to ask me that today,” he answered, eying Dean up slowly.  
“I’m not?” Dean asked curiously. The man turned slightly, pointing over to the bar. Dean followed his fingers and saw Y/N perched on a bar stool smiling and waggling her fingers over to him. He rolled his eyes heavily.  
“A friend of yours?”  
“Yeah,” Dean grunted. “A friend who lacks communication skills these days.” He added, waving sarcastically over at Y/N.  
“How’s James?” Spencer moved back to Portia.  
“Better,” she replied. “I’ll tell him you asked.” Spencer nodded slowly, eyes lingering on Portia then necessary before turning over to Philippe.  
“Philippe, it’s time we be going.”  
“Of course.” He responded, looking quickly over at Portia again, smiling before turning to Dean. “So nice to meet you.” He smirked, eyes going yellow and turning into those of a cat. Dean flinched as the man before he turned into a black cat and jumped to sit on his master’s shoulder.

“I knew it!” He called out as Y/N began walking over to them once they were alone. “What are you doing here?” Dean asked.  
“My job.” She responded bitterly. “Plus don’t you think I’d blend in around her better than you?” Dean smiled back sarcastically just as his phone began to ring.

Dean answered, taking Y/N by the arm and moving her to the side of the room.  
“Excuse us.” He pardoned to Portia. “Yeah,”  
“Where are you?” Sam’s voice plundered down the phone.  
“At some witch bar, found Y/N by the way.”  
“She okay?”

“She’s annoying… ow!” Sam smirked, knowing Y/N had probably hit Dean up the head again.  
“Listen, I just got the lab work back from the blood on Jame’s shirt.”  
“And?”  
“not good. Blood’s an exact match to that of victim number three.”  
“That pretty much says it all doesn't it.”

* * *

The boys didn’t say anything to Y/N as they reunited back at the motel. They just said they needed to regroup and go over to James’s.  
“to tell him what we’ve found right?” She asked.  
“Right,” Dean replied with a short tempter before pushing her into the car.

When they arrived at James’s, she was confused when the boys decided to pick the lock instead of knocking. It was deep in the night and something was beginning to feel off.  
“What are you doing?” She asked as they stepped inside.  
“Shush!” Dean spat back at her as they climbed up the stairs. She stood still in shock as the boys continued to walk through the house. She watched as Dean pulled out the glass bottle with the completed witch-killing spell from her jacket and rage flew up in her chest. She saw Sam briefly glance at her apologetically as they entered James’s room. She watched them disappear, so shocked and hurt that they had hidden this from her that she couldn’t bring herself to move. It was only when she heard the cries of Portia that she was kicked back into action.  
“No!” Portia yelled. Y/N ran in to find the boys standing over Jame’s shackled to his bed. Dean held a lighter in one hand and the spell in the other. “Dean you have to listen to me, please! It’s not James.” Her voice was filled with such concern and worry that it forced to boys to put away the spell and listen to her words. Y/N moved to stand between the boys and Portia, not sure which side she belonged.

.

.

They moved downstairs to talk about what was happening, ready to give Portia a chance to defend her master.  
“Tonight, me and James were close.” She said tentatively. “Without physiological walls.” She added when the boys remained still with their faces. “intimate.”

“I don’t…” Dean stuttered, looking over to Y/N and Sam for an explanation.  
“They had sex.” They both said in unison. Y/N gave herself a brief moment to enjoy the shock on Dean’s face.  
“wow!” He laughed. “I didn’t expect that.”  
“We have an unusual relationship. Familiars aren’t supposed to be sexually involved with their witches.” She explained.  
“Understandable,” Dean spluttered. “Considering you’re er… well and he’s… that’s… little help her?” He begged Sam who shook his head. “No?”  
“We hadn’t made love in weeks!” Portia continued, ignoring Dean fumbling over his words. “James had completely shut me out. But tonight I saw his thoughts, memories of the murders.”  
“I’m sorry is this you trying to convince us not to gank James or…”  
“Dean that’s all I saw! Just the kills. No preparation, no thought process, no motivation! Just the kills without context.”  
“No other awareness of the crimes?” Sam added.  
“No!” Portia insisted. “Doesn’t that at least suggest he’s under another witch’s control?”  
“Spencer and Y/N both said that isn’t possible.”  
“We said we never heard of it,” Y/N added, keeping her eyes on Portia and ignoring the looks from Sam and Dean.  
“James is chained! he’s confined. At least take a shot!” Portia begged.

* * *

Once morning arrived Sam and Y/N got in the car and drove down to the police station again, keen to get more information about this witness. As Y/N sipped her coffee, she fought the urge to spill the contents of her cup all over the dashboard, just to spite Dean. When they pulled her she felt Sam’s eyes on her.  
“You not gonna argue or tell me off?” He asked.  
“I was saving it for later,” she said under her breath, keeping her eyes forward.  
“Y/n…”  
“I thought I was the one who kept all the secrets.” She finally turned betrayal in her eyes again. Sam sighed, not having any response he could give to satisfy her. “I know when you two met me I wasn’t a full-on witch. But I am now. And you two being so trigger happy at anyone who uses magic starts to make me wonder when it’ll be my turn. What if I don’t use my magic the way you want me to, do I end up on the receiving end of a witch-killing spell?”

“Y/N, you don’t do what we ask when it comes your magic anyway!” Y/N thought for a second and bit back her smirk, he had her there. Sam did in fact laugh, seeing her walls melt slightly.  
“Listen, we only ask that you don’t use your magic because we don’t want you getting hurt. That’s all! But you have to remember we’ve only ever encountered witches who tend to kill. You’re the first good one we’ve come across! And as far as Dean’s concerned, you’re the only one we’ll ever come across. James might be innocent but he might not be. We have to do what’s right for those out there who can’t defend themselves like we can. Look, we’d never hurt. I would never hurt you.” He placed his hand on Y/N, gripping it desperately. She wanted to stay angry and felt she still had a right too, but she felt herself relaxing towards Sam.  
“Yeah well…” she sighed, trying to stay angry. “Dean’s gonna have to have this conversation with me himself.” Sam laughed at her stubbornness, not having expected anything else.  
“Come on.”

.

.

They walked through the halls until they spotted Joshua and Ed Stoltz leaving an office.  
“Gentlemen,” Sam called as he and Y/N strode over.  
“Still investigating this crappy little case?” Ed asked, “You’re partner I presume.” Y/N nodded but didn’t smile. Already she picked up a bad feeling about the middle-aged man in front of her.

“Well, we have some individual discretion to pursue cases,” Sam informed him. As he spoke his eyes drifted down, quickly reading the label on the folder Joshua was holding in his hand. It read James Frampton.  
“I catch up with you later Ed.” Joshua excused himself quickly, taking the file with him.  
“well eventually these kinds of cases just run cold as I’m sure you’re aware. Just not enough to keep them floating.” Ed’s attempt to turn the two hunters off the case was failed when Y/N answered authoritatively.  
“So you have no new leads?”  
“No, it's just drifting to the back burner really. We just don’t have the manpower” Y/N laughed gently to herself as the man spoke.

“Must have been hard to have lost Lieutenant Frampton then.” She could see she’d hit a nerve with the man and for some reason, it gave her a feeling that this was a route worth taking. “He and my partner worked a case a while back.” Sam nodded to agree to her story. The man in front breathed and sniffed loudly, body moving on the defensive,  
“Well, he’s not lost, just on leave.”  
“Y’know, I remember him saying he was the youngest guy here to ever make Lieutenant,” Sam smiled, picking up on Y/N’s approach and running with it. “Must have made few waves.”  
“No,” Stoltz replied. “No waves around here. Just grunts, no starts. It's just when one mutt goes lame another pops up, agents.” Stoltz was quick to leave once his sentence was over, having no desire to speak with them any longer.

When his frame disappeared around a curve Sam and Y/N looked at one another.  
“I wonder who put the stick up his but. You notice the file?” Y/N asked.  
“Yeah, I did.” He replied, eyes moving to the door the two men had come out of. He jiggled the handle but it remained locked. “Can you get this open?” He asked Y/N.  
“Not without making a scene.” She replied regretfully, looking up to note the room number on the door. “C-110. We can try and come back later.” She suggested. Sam thought about it before sighing loudly.  
“Come on, let's get back to Dean. See what he and Portia learned”

* * *

They walked back into the house to find Dean at the living room table, hunched over looking at old pieces of paper.  
“Hey,” they all greeted one another. Dean noted the edge of Y/N’s voice beginning to fade slightly, he made a mental note to thank his brother and have a conversation with Y/N once all this was over. “So I’ve been going over Bobby’s data.”

“Anything?” Sam asked as he and Y/N sat down to join him.  
“well Portia might not be wrong, turns out there is a spell for implanting images into another person’s brain.”  
“Really?” Y/N asked intrigued.  
“yeah, creating false memories into another witch’s mind.”  
“So James could be convinced he actually did these murders and be nowhere near them.” Y/N theorized, taking the paper from Dean and looking over at Bobby’s handwriting.

“So it could be someone else.” Sam echoed.  
“Well, they’re going through a lot of trouble to make it look like James,” Dean commented as he took a sip of his drink. “What the cops say?”  
“Well according to Ed Stoltz they got nothing.” Y/N scoffed.  
“But we saw the tech guy working the case hold a large file labeled James Frampton,” Sam explained.

“Huh,” Dean murmured suspiciously. There was defiantly more to this case than they had first thought. Sam nodded, briefly patting Y/N’s tight before standing up and getting ready to leave the room.  
“Oh!” He stopped, turning back to Dean. “I gotta hand it to ya. It’s been 15 hours since Portia told us about her night with James. And not one bestiality joke out of ya.” Dean grinned childishly and proudly as Sam walked away.

Once alone, Dean looked over at Y/N who was staring at her hands.  
“We need to talk?” He grunted.  
“Yeah, we do.” She said sternly. Dean sighed heavily before downing the rest of his drink.  
“Okay, let’s have it.” Y/N rolled her eyes but positioned her to face him straight on.

“I’m a witch.” She stated. Dean squinted and nodded his head.  
“I am aware of this.”  
“And you hate witches.”  
“pretty much.” He shrugged nonchalantly. Y/N rolled her eyes again, he wasn’t taking this seriously. “But I don’t hate you.” He insisted when he sensed her annoyance.  
“But you hate what I am. What I’ve become, what I chose to become.” Dean took in her words and thought about it for a moment, did he hate the fact she was a witch? Every witch he came across was out to kill him and control those innocent around him. They were messy and disgusting and made his skin crawl. But when he looked at Y/N, none of those characteristics fit into who she was. He sighed again.  
“In a way, yes.” He confessed. “I hate that you have to carry around this burden and this noncontrollable thing inside you and that you did it to save me.” He told her. “And you have to understand, my whole life, every witch I came across was on the dark side. Y/N, I know you’re not. And I guess there are some witches out there using their powers for good, but I’ve never come across them! You and James are the only ones.” Y/N nodded, looking down at the floor again and think about the logical way Dean’s brain was thinking. Every witch he’d come across had been a monster. He was bound to be distrustful. “But I trust you, and I will never, never, hurt you. You understand me?” He reached his hand out to land on her arm, pulling her eyes to meet his to make sure she was listening. Battling the tears threatening to appear she nodded.  
“Okay.”

.

.

They joined Sam in James’s room, who was still shackled to the bed.  
“So Portia tells me, my friend in the community want me burnt at the stake.” He said resentfully.  
“Not gonna lie, it’s getting ugly,” Dean informed him.  
“And the cops might have more on the case than they’re letting on. They had a case on you.”

“Me?”  
“Yeah, whatever they have on you is under lock and key in the precinct.” She said regretfully.  
“Room C-110?” Sam remembered.  
“then we need to break in!” James suddenly insisted.  
“Sure,” Dean scoffed. “Yeah, a locked room in a joint crawling with cops 24/7. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Dean, I witch can go to a place without going to a place,” James told the man forcefully.  
“What like phone sex?” Dean asked. Y/N whacked him up the back of the head and looked back over to James.  
“Are you talking about Astro-projection?” She asked. He nodded.  
“I can project my awareness anywhere, like from right here. But these have to go.” He lifted his hands making the chains clink against one another.  
“Not gonna happen.” Dean shook his head.  
“Iron means no magic. No magic, no break-in.”  
“Can’t you do it?’ Sam asked Y/N. She was quick to shake her head.  
“My magic isn’t like his.” She confessed. “I’m all power and very little control. I took the shortcuts, remember? Chaos magic. James took time to hone the craft, he’s got the refinement to control something like that. I’ve got the juice but not the experience or know-how to pull it off. If I had a month or so maybe but… we don’t have that time.”  
“Okay,” Sam sighed disappointed, turning back to James. “But only if we can go with you.”

.

.

The boys all sat at the end of the bad as Y/N and Portia stood and watched.  
“James, are you sure you’re even still able to do this?” Portia asked with worry.  
“Oh well, that’s a confidence builder!” Dean groaned. “Anything else I should know before I become some disembodied thing completely at his mercy.”  
“Just close your eyes,” James instructed, putting his hands on both their shoulders. Y/N reached to hold Portia’s hand comfortingly as she looked on with worry. James chanted his spell with gruff words and suddenly the boys were in a trance. Jame’s eyes were rolled to the back of his head as the boys furrowed their brows in concentration into seeing what James was seeing.

Their vision was hasty at first, but eventually, they could see as they moved through the precinct, passing unsuspecting cops as they passed the halls. They arrived outside room C-110 and moved through the door. They saw Ed Stolz and Joshua the tech at desks, looking of evidence and case files. Along the walls were details of the victims, eventually followed by a sketch of James and a series of surveillance photos of him in his car. They saw Jame’s record on Ed’s computer screen and a whiteness statement, swearing they had seen James fleeing the murder scene and signed by Philippe LeChat.

In the panic James pulled himself by into consciousness and into the room of his house, dragging the boys along with him. Portia and Y/Nm both flinched and stood back at the now highly wired and panicked James who lunged from his seat to standing.  
“Stoltz! He’s building a case against me.” James panted. “Ed! He’s always wanted a breakthrough case, nailing a renegade cop, that would qualify.”  
“Especially one he holds a grudge against.” Sam agreed, panting slightly as he recovered from the odd magical experience,  
“My first case! They dropped him as lead detective and went with me.” James realized with horror.  
“So this is pay-back?” Y/N guessed, looking frantically between each man.  
“He can’t just arrest you. He needs evidence, he needs proof.” Portia tried to rationalize.  
“He’s got it!” James screamed. “He’s got everything!”  
“From who?”  
“Phil,” Dean told them. “The cat.”  
“Philippe,” Portia said with gritted teeth. But her anger was nothing compared to James right now. His breathing was erratic and his eyes were beginning to burn. His shoulders moved up and down as if waiting to transform into the incredible hulk!  
“Hey, take it easy.” Both the boys stood, trying and calm James and stop him from doing anything rash. They failed as he threw them down in a fit of rage. Pushing unseen power towards the boys, sending them flying across his room and crashing against the walls. When Y/N saw their motionless forms she panicked, conjuring her own magic in a warm golden glow around her hands. She only wanted to restrain James, wait until he was calm and able to think rationally. But when he saw her magic build around her, he panicked more, sending his own blast that Y/N was helpless to defend herself from. She crashed onto the floor and quickly joined the boys in an unconscious state.

.

.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!” Dean’s angry voice pulled her from her slumber. He and Sam helped sit Y/N up as her hand went straight to the pain on her head.  
“Shit.” She groaned when her vision came back to her.  
“Where’s James? Where did he go?” Sam asked in a panic.  
“I don’t know, he threw me across the god damn room as well,” Y/N whined, slowly coming to her feet.  
“Where would he go?” Sam continued to question.  
“Well, who would you go to visit when you’ve been accused of murders you didn’t commit.” Dean guessed.  
“Philippe.” Y/N realized. “He’s gonna go after the cat. My guess, the bar.”

* * *

They arrived at the bars a group of witches and familiars were running out in a panic. A sign that they had found the right location of James. They ran down the stairs but as they reached the last few steps, Y/N flung her hand out to stop the boys.  
“What?” Dean asked in both pent-up anger and confusion.  
“Shush!” She whispered harshly, pointing to the room they were heading into. Dean and Sam snuck their heads around the corner to see the scene. Philippe’s body was on the bar, neck snapped in a straight forward right angle. James stood in the center of the room, eyes shocked and betrayed as he tried to come up with a harmless explanation as the man in front of him spat out the words of his secret hatred. Spencer, Philippe’s master, and Jame’s supposed friend stood pacing the room in front of James with nothing but contempt in his eyes.

“It was you, you were behind all of this?” James asked in shock, praying the response would be no.  
“I humbly accept credit.” Spencer bragged.  
“You made me think I was a killer!” James yelled, still hurt and confused. “Ed Stolz put you up to it? He found out you were a witch, tried to blackmail you.” Spencer shook his head with an amused smile.  
“You’re not using your thinking cap, Jimmy. It was actually crucial that he didn’t believe in the occult. I said he’s built quite a solid case, don’t you?”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“Of course you don’t. Did neither of you stop to consider my feelings?” James looked at his former friend as the cloud of confusion lifted from around him.  
“Portia.” He realized. “This is about her?”  
“Can you imagine the insult when she chose you? I wanted her as my soulmate the moment I saw her.”

“She was meant to be my familiar!” James yelled protectively.

“Oh, she’s way more than familiar, isn’t she?” Spencer growled, stepping forward. “When she picked you as master, I endured it. But when you two went all Bella and Edward, put your passion above the community rules! Well, the arrogance, the entitlement was too much. It seemed inappropriate.”

Dean had had enough, pushing past Y/N as he enters the room with heavy footsteps, Sam following behind. Y/N stayed behind the door, suddenly fearful of coming face to face with much more experienced witches than herself. Spencer didn’t even need to turn his head to know who had entered the room.  
“The Wiccan from Detroit.” He laughed.  
“So James didn’t kill those….” Spencer flung his hand and Sam and Dean went flying through the air, again. Crashing on their backs. James tried to retaliate the Spencer turned back to him, a flash of electric blue coming from his hands and scorching the floor at Spencer’s feet. He jumped back quickly.  
“Seriously? You want to go up against me?” Spencer flashed his own blue lightning that went through the floor and up into James’s body. It flashed through him and lifted him up in the air. By the pain on his face, Y/N could almost feel the tightening of his insides as he groaned. Sam and Dean quickly got to their feet, reaching for their witch-killing spell. But Spencer sensed their movement, flashing more light towards them and freezing them still. “It’s not only James’s head I can get inside.” By the fearful expressions etched onto the boy's faces, she knew they must be trapped in some sort of mental torment, pushed onto them by this jealous witch. She was right. Each man saw the worst horrors they had ever faced. Sam, falling into the pit and burning in hell. Dean losing his mother and being tortured by the devil. Their silent whimpers were enough for Y/N to finally spark into action. She stepped from the shadows, bolting her golden glow towards Spencer as she yelled.

“Inpello!” Her unexpected arrival sent him crashing onto the floor in pain. But he refused to let go f his magical hold on James. Feeling the brute force of the landing on her own back, Y/N gritted her teeth and hid the pain as she stepped forward again. “Ramaneo” she hissed, holding the man down on the ground. She just needed a few more seconds to figure out the next move, to force his release on the boys. But she needn’t worry as Portia came running in from nowhere in her dog form. She growled and leaped on Spencer, digger her teeth into his chest. The pain made him release his hold and the boys gasped in freedom. Spencer took hold of Portia but the throat, throwing her across the room with a whimper. Looking to her left, Y/N heard Sam speaking Latin to activate the witch-killing spell. She came face to face with Spencer, now standing. His eyes met her with fury and from a distance and with magical force, he grasped her throat and had her hovering in the air. Choking and gasping for breath Y/N closed her eyes, desperate for any energy she could muster as the dim glow built up in her hands. “I….Inpello!” She gasped loudly as she threw her golden magic at her capture. It knocked him backward, giving her just enough time to land on her feet before Sam threw the witch-killing spell at Spencer and he went up in smoke and flames. Barely having time to register what had happened, Y/N felt her head go light and the world go dark as she collapsed onto the floor and slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Y/N’s eyelids fluttered open, she senses the familiar surroundings of the Impala’s interior, the gentle rumble of the engine the motion of the car as it drove along.  
“so it’s possible I was wrong.” She heard Dean speak from the front of the car.  
“What, about James? Dude, we were both ready to gank the guy. Y/N was the only one not jumping to conclusions. And when she waked up we both owe her an apology.” Sam chuckled to himself. Y/N smiled, remaining still with her eyes closed to listen to the boy's words.  
“James say how long he reckoned she’d be under for?” Dean asked.  
“A few hours he guessed. Said she’ll probably be exhausted and sore for a few days but nothing… life-threatening.” Dean nodded in understanding but continued to turn to his brother briefly, before backing to the road.  
“That’s not what I mean actually. Back there when Spencer had us, he screwed with my head. I saw mom. The way she died and some other crap.”  
“Yeah, me too.”  
“Seeing all that pain, I realized the only way we made it through it was hanging in together. I trust you, Sammy, with this deal. Locking these sons of bitches once and for all. So if you say you’re good, then that’s it. I'm with you 100%.”

“I’m good,” Sam said briefly before clearing his throat. Still feeling the effects of her battle Y/N smiled to herself and shifted lightly, happy to go back to sleep until they arrived back at the bunker.

Looking briefly in the back seat and then over at his brother, happy his focus was on the road, Sam cleared his throat once again, catching the blood that spluttered from his mouth. He wiped it away as quickly as he could manage and clean his hand on the fabric of his jeans.

* * *

_EXCLUSIVE SCENE OVER ON MY PATREON!_

_Y/N AND THE BOYS PRACTISE SOME MAGIC IN THE KITCHEN_

_https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks_

**Author's Note:**

> What did we all think? Please leave a comment and a kudos down below, it really makes my day. And if you want to help me out even more, head over to my Patreon page. Memberships are between £1-5, depending on how many benefits you want. You can choose from exclusive scenes, exclusive fics, sneak peaks, early access, polls that determine how this story goes and a personalise fic written with your name and your story! Hope to see you all there! Sending love and health - herstorybooks.  
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